


The Kidnapping of Daniel Meade… and What's-her-name

by 1lostone



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: Also it occurs to me after reading this again seven years later that Daniel is kind of a dick., And Livejournal, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, But not on purpose, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Originally posted in 2008, Really. - Freeform, mild sexual assault (not by Daniel) if there is such thing as "mild" sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 115,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel is kidnapped and Betty is taken along for the ride.  </p><p> </p><p>Orig posted in 2008, and I took it off the internet (well as much as you can take anything off the internet) Am now reposting in all its over-dramatized glory, per request. This is one of my first fics, and I'm afraid my writing style wasn't fully developed. *cringe* Please don't hate me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: Adult for language and sexual situations.  
> Disclaimer: I disclaim. I'm just borrowing for nefarious deeds.  
> Pairing: Duh.  
> Status: WIP  
> Spoilers: All kinds up to and including season three.
> 
> A/N: This was one of those fics that I know is ridiculous and has just about a zero chance of having anything to do with canon- but I desperately wanted to get them out of the Mode offices. Oh, and I got the title of the fic from a book I read ages ago when the Earth was cool and I was in fifth grade. It's called The Kidnapping of Courtney Van-Allen and What's-her-name. You should read it. :-) Comments, favorite lines, and concrit is welcomed and encouraged. Special thanks to my beta Jen, who is just made of awesome, and Historianic who is always willing to give me an honest opinion!

 

* * *

* * *

**Tuesday, 10:08 pm.**

 

CNN picked it up almost immediately.

There was the blurry security camera footage of two figures. One was wearing a dress shirt and tie, hands behind his back with a bag over his head, and the other wearing a floral print skirt, leggings and tights. The woman looked to be blindfolded and had someone's gloved hand over her mouth. She was struggling and kicking as much as she could. Both were being escorted out of the building at gunpoint. From there, the two were shoved into a white van. Both images were shown on an endless loop behind the heads of the anchors who were almost babbling over themselves at the dreadful news.

"Today, the Fashion world was rocked by the shocking news of the apparent kidnapping of heir to Meade Publications, Daniel Meade and…" (Here the anchor was heard hissing to someone off-camera) "What's-her-name?" (Some scuffing sounds and more whispering.) "…and Mr. Meade's assistant, Betty Suarez. No ransom demands have yet been made for the return of the heir to the Meade empire. Stay tuned to CNN for up-to-the-minute of the coverage of the apparent kidnapping of Mr. Meade and…er…Miss…um…Suarez."

 

* * *

_**About an hour or so earlier…..** _

 

"I just want you to know that you owe me. I should get it in writing!" Betty called back to Daniel as she hit the button for the elevator.

"Hey…you wanted more responsibility. This is an errand of vital importance. If I don't eat something I'll start in on Amanda's chocolate stash, and then I'll be forced to blame it on you." Daniel grinned cheekily and headed back to his office, secure in the knowledge that Betty would be providing sustenance for his late night at the office. He loved to tease her about her 'underlying' status.

"I don't know why we can't just get something delivered. This is Manhattan. Everything is open during every hour of the day. And making personally sure that they don't put eggs in your fried rice is not assuming more responsibility!" Betty grumbled under her breath as she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She only had on a light jacket, but she figured it would be warm enough even with the colder October weather.

She had made it all the way to the restaurant (it was only one block down and over) before remembering that she didn't have her wallet with her. She had been cleaning it out and it was currently sitting on her desk.

"Oh, Damnit!" She whacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Duh, Suarez." It only took her ten minutes to make it back to the Meade building under the power of her angry power-walking. She was so irate at herself that she didn't notice that the security guard, who never failed to greet her when he was on shift, wasn't at his post. The lobby was in fact eerily quiet, a fact that Betty didn't start to notice until she hit the elevator button. It wasn't lit up. Strange. Had there been a power outage? She heard a muffled ding behind her and turned. It came from the stairwell. Betty's brows furrowed.

What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke?

She made her way to the stairwell, but knew there was no way in heck she was climbing up those stairs. She could still feel her calf muscles wincing in remembered exertion from helping Daniel avoid Sofia a couple of years ago. The sound she had heard must have been a service elevator. Betty knew, in theory that there had to be several service elevators for the Meade building, but she had never noticed them before. It was sort of hidden in an out of the way corner. Betty saw that it was coming down, but the elevator didn't show from which floor like the regular elevators did.

_Curiouser and Curiouser….._

She hitched her purse up on her shoulder, pushed her glasses up on her nose with one finger and waited patiently as the doors slid open.

And screamed.

 

* * *

Daniel didn't think too much about working late. It wasn't like he had overmuch to do in the evenings, unless he wanted to go out….which he didn't. He found that he had spent so much time worrying about Connor and Wilhelmina during the day that he couldn't get much work done until the evening. Betty had offered to stay, as she usually did, partly out of loyalty and partly out of a fervent desire for the time and a half of overtime.

 

When Daniel heard the muffled footsteps he didn't react overly much, assuming that Betty was returning early. He was standing in his office with his back to the doors, leaning over the table. He was trying to decide which versions of the photographs should be added to the Book, when it hit him that the tread was way too heavy for Betty's lighter step. So, when he felt the press of the object into his back it startled him enough that he jumped, knocking the stack of proofs to the floor.

"Now!"

Daniel struggled when the two bulky men bent him over the desk and secured his hands with duct tape. They had his arms up to a most uncomfortable angle and the tape was so tight that Daniel cried out in pain. He managed to kick back and knew he connected with his attacker's knee, but he was off balance and felt himself falling to the side. Without being able to use his arms for balance, he fell to the floor. Daniel got a boot in his side for his troubles.

Daniel cried out again when he was hauled back to his feet by his hair.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll calm down. This don't have to be no problem, here."

The words were punctuated by a bright burst of pain from his cheekbone as he saw the butt of the gun crack him in the face. He was too stunned to do much more than try to brace himself. They were about the same height. There were two guys in his office with him, and two more standing outside. His quick glance took in the fact that they were covered from head to toe in black clothes. Each one of them held a weapon. They had something over their faces so that Daniel couldn't discern any individual features.

Then he thought of something that turned his blood cold: Betty would be back any minute. He sagged against the man holding him. "Okay. I won't fight anymore…." he whispered. Daniel would do anything in his power to hurry this along so that she didn't walk in on the crime in progress.

He heard a satisfied sound from the man in front, holding the gun on him. Daniel didn't fight when he was gagged, and didn't struggle when the black bag was put over his head. He could feel them taping it around his neck so that it wouldn't slip off. Daniel panicked for a moment when the thick cloth took away sight, and muffled sound. He relaxed when he realized he could breathe; there was a hole in the cloth. Someone jabbed him in the back with the gun while someone else hissed at him to, "move his fuckin' ass if he didn't want it kicked into the middle of next week."

Daniel moved. _Please don't let her come back. Please, please not Betty…._

"Good thing you took care of the elevators," one kidnapper said conversationally.

"Shut the fuck up. You ever heard of a voice lineup? We was paid to get this done and get this done quickly." The man speaking seemed to be in charge. He was smart enough to distort the sound of voice by whispering, but the furious sound was still chilling. Daniel could he was being led to a different part of the Mode floor-near the back where larger deliveries were made.

The muzak in the elevator as they descended was ironically a really terrible version of Queen's _Break Free._

Daniel had moments in the elevator for his terror to become more pronounced. He knew that he was worth much more alive than dead, but that didn't mean that they couldn't and indeed wouldn't hurt him. And Betty. Betty was okay. She would be horrified and worried…but safe. Relief and elation at that thought helped him fight the overwhelming fear.

"Okay, let's do this. Get him in the van and let's get the _fuck_ out of Dodge."

The elevator doors slid open, and they heard a scream. Daniel knew in a second who that screeching voice belonged to, and felt his terror rise up to an almost an incomprehensible level. _Oh no, oh no…oh no…._

"Shit! There she goes, grab her!" Daniel felt himself thrown roughly to the side of the elevator. Unable to catch his fall, he whacked his head against the side panel. Unfortunately, it was the same side he'd been pistol-whipped before, and Daniel saw stars.

He desperately tried to remain conscious. He heard Betty yell again, and responded by trying to yell, "Leave her alone!" No words could be heard through his gag. He made just a pathetic _mmmmmmphing_ sound.

"Fuck! She saw everything. Let's just do her now and get the hell out of here!"

There was the sound of a scuffle, and the meaty sound of a blunt object hitting flesh. Betty's whimper of pain made Daniels heart hurt.

"I didn't sign on to 'do' no women. I ain't killin' no one. Just bring her. She can be used to control His Highness over there."

"I don't have another bag!"

"Well, just use the duct tape, dumbass! Hurry up! You! Get the van!"

Daniel felt himself being moved, heard the sound of a fire door being opened. He could feel the cool air from outside through the thin material of his shirt. He felt a sense of vertigo as he was swung up into what he presumed was the van. The metal floor was cold, and the force of his bruised body hitting it caused him to lose his breath. He heard another thud, and a muffled pain sound of Betty hitting the floor besides him. Then two slaps of the doors and the sound of squealing tires. Then just blissful silence as he passed out.

 

* * *

Everything had happened way too fast for Betty to do much more than react. She had been hit in the stomach, tied up with duct tape- the bastard had ripped off her glasses and put the duct tape over her freakingeyes- both her wrists were tied in front of her. She had landed partially on top of the man next to her.

When she had seen Daniel in the elevator, and the weapons, and the men with the masks, she had screamed, spun on her heel and tried to run. She just wasn't used to seeing that sort of thing outside of a television program. Betty took a shuddering breath.

"Daniel?" She whispered it so softly; it was barely a breath in the confined space. There was no response. Betty tried to wiggle and twist her body so that she could bring her hands up to check on him. She managed to get so that she was sort of sitting up. She couldn't see a thing with the tape over her eyes but she was able to use her hands to feel for a heartbeat on the man lying next to her.

What she found was firm…very warm…and definitely not a heartbeat. Betty jerked her hands away. Oh great. Feeingl him up while he's unconscious. Nice. Daniel had obviously landed on his back. Betty tentatively tried again to reach out to him. It was extremely awkward with the way her hands were tied in front of her, but her fingertips brushed against his hands. Betty tried to turn him over with her shoulder. Unfortunately, just as she had nudged him over, the man driving the van turned the corner sharply and Betty pitched over, falling half on top of Daniel and half onto the filthy van's floor.

She heard a muffled sound of protest.

"Sorry, sorry…" she muttered as softly as she could. She had fallen so that her face was on his chest, near his shoulder. She pushed away with her hands, feeling the hard musculature of Daniel's stomach. She used her face, pushing against his shoulder to sort of balance herself. Betty could feel the bag on his head, and thought that maybe she could manage to get it off. She couldn't move her hands without falling back down, so she used her lips to try and separate the mask from Daniel's shirt. It had been taped down, but inexpertly, so that she was able to remove the tape with a few good tugs of her teeth.

Daniel came to when Betty fell on top of him. He was groggy, but relieved that she seemed to be all right. He froze when he felt her hands against his stomach, and her mouth against his collarbone. Well, he couldn't feel her lips with all the layers of fabric, but he wanted to cheer when he felt her lifting up the stifling sack that had been placed over his head.

Even if she had to use her lips to inch it up. She'd slide her nose against his neck; then use her teeth and lips to jerk the cloth up, then the nose, then her lips...

_Well it's official. You're a pervert. Only you could be in this sort of situation and be noticing how good someone's lips feel._

Daniel tried to help her by tilting back his head. After the oppressing humidity of his breath under the bag, he was pathetically grateful for the cooler air of the van as it finally slid off his face.

"Daniel? I…Are you ok? I can't see." Betty whispered it close to his face. Daniel rested his head against hers for a moment. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. Daniel managed to get up on his knees. He rubbed his face against hers so that she could feel the gag.

"What are you…oh. OH. Of course. Here. Maybe if you move your face down a little I can get it with my hands."

Daniel looked around the interior of the van. There were lights from outside shining into the one window on the door. They were spaced out just enough that he could tell that they were on a freeway of some sort. He wasn't sure which one. It didn't really matter as long as they wouldn't be interrupted for awhile. Daniel scrunched over so that his face was more or less even with where her hands were tied in front of her. He closed his eyes at the feel of her gentle fingers on his nose and ear; then turned his neck a little so that the tips were against his mouth. He felt her nails dig into his skin to dig for purchase. The gag was tightly tied, and barely budged. Daniel tried to open his jaw wider, and Betty tried with a little more force. Daniel could feel it give and shook his head vigorously so that the once-tight piece of cloth would fall further down his chin. Betty yanked on the tighter part near his ears, and the gag fell around Daniel's neck.

He moved his tongue around his mouth a little to get some saliva.

"Oh Betty, oh thank God you're okay." He babbled pushing up so that his face was near hers. His eyes had adjusted to the dark interior enough that he could see the outline of her features in the darkness. She was on her knees, her hands tied in front of her. Her shoulders were hunched over. She was sort of supporting her weight with her knees.

He saw her nod. "I think…I think I'm okay." Daniel moved so that his arms were against the wall of the van that separated them from the kidnappers. It was closed off, more like a freight van than a passenger van. He saw Betty come up near him, and felt her leaning against him in the darkness. As scared as he was, it did help to know that he wasn't alone. Daniel imagined Betty was getting the same sort of comfort that he was by their small contact.

The two sat there for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

They both became aware of the argument about the same time. The words were somewhat muffled, but could still be heard.

"—I can't believe how badly you guys fucked this one up. The Boss is gonna be righteously pissed when he sees that you took the woman. You should have just offed her like I said."

Betty stiffened next to him.

"No, I think she can be useful. If he does anything out of line, then we use her. We go to the place, and hold up there for the night. The plan isn't changed. We use the night to find new wheels, and we take His Highness to the Boss."

Daniel's heart began to thump in his chest.

"The exit is up here."

The voices trailed off. Betty and Daniel looked at each other in the darkness. (Well, Daniel looked at Betty and Betty looked somewhat in Daniel's direction.) It hit them both about the same time. _Oh shit! The bag!_

They had no way of knowing how soon they'd be at their destination, but Daniel could guess just exactly how thrilled their kidnappers would be to realize that Betty had managed to free him up.

Betty dived for the bag. Daniel arranged himself, bending over and wincing at the pain in his ribs as she got the bag in her hand.

"Wait! The gag!" He remembered just in time.

They could feel the vehicle slowing down. Were they at a traffic light? Were they there?

Betty made another little whimpering sound of fright and tried to work the gag back up onto Daniel's mouth. It wouldn't budge. It was hanging up over his angular chin. "Shit! Forget it. Get that back over my head!" Daniel hissed. Betty rushed to comply as best she could with shaking hands.

It didn't help that she was losing some of the circulation from the awkwardness of having them tied together. Daniel had forgotten what his own hands felt like (what felt like hours but had to have only been minutes) ago.

Daniel heard the ignition being shut off. A car door slammed and the van bounced as the kidnappers exited.

"Oh hurry….hurry…hurry!" he whispered. He almost sobbed with relief as he felt it go down around his neck. He threw himself back onto the van and felt Betty drop like a stone on top of him just as the van door slid open.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Tuesday, 11:45 pm**

 

* * *

 

Betty was scared to death. She could honestly say that she had never been as frightened in her life. Hearing how casually one ofthemhad posed the idea to kill her because she had interfered with their plans was horrifying. Knowing that she was being kept around to "control" Daniel was just as scary. (She refused to contemplate exactly what "control" might mean. She didn't think that babbling in abject terror would be overly beneficial.)

She wanted her Dad. She wanted to live through this. She wanted Daniel to live through this.

She wanted a lot of things for a girl in her position.

She flattened herself next to Daniel just as she heard the sound of the van's door sliding open. She couldn't see of course, but Betty thought that the senses she could use were more in-tune with what was going on around her. Very well then. She would listen, and smell, and touch what she could to be able to identify these bastards. Taste…well…yeah that one wasn't as useful. Unless you counted the taste of the dirty burlap sack that had been around Daniel's head. That was on her tastebuds, and the dusty, moldy smells and tastes weren't really anything she wanted to dwell on.

Betty stiffened when she felt the hands on her. He was wearing gloves, and the cold feel of the material sliding against her head made her want to throw up. She cried out when it cruelly grabbed a handful of her hair at the back of her head, using that and one hand on the waistband of her skirt to haul her up. Tears sprung to her eyes. That hurt!

She froze again when she was brought up hard against the man's body. There was an evil sounding laugh that she could feel against her back. "Listen, baby, you keep that mouth quiet. Not one sound out of you, or I promise you I will find a way to shut you up…permanently. You dig?" Betty dug. She dug perfectly well. She nodded hard, wanting to show him that she understood. The man chuckled again as doing so pulled her hair again, hurting her all the more. "Good girl." His hand slid down over her hip.

"Hey- let's go. Get her inside! You, check the room." Betty couldn't identify the speaker, but it wasn't the man holding her. There was the sound of footsteps walking ahead of her. Then a muffled, "It's fine. Just like we ordered."

Chuckles kneed Betty on her rear end to get her to walk. He kept a hold of her by her hair, but had changed his grip so that his fingers were hard against her waist, digging into the skin there. Betty was certain she would have bruises, but didn't much care at this point. Even though she couldn't feel his touch through the gloves, its malevolence made her skin crawl.

Betty bit her lip, too afraid to make any sound. She hated not being able to see her surroundings. She walked about thirty steps and was pushed hard. She felt her long hair slide through the man's grip as she fell onto her knees. She could feel carpet through her tights and her hands brushed against something hard as she fell. Betty could feel that it was some sort of table leg. Having no idea where she was in relation to the room that she was in, Betty curled up her knees as best she could. She followed the table leg with her fingers, walking cautiously on her knees until her hands touched something solid, a wall. She put her back to the wall, and curled up her knees again so that she was taking up as little space as possible. Her lower lip trembled as she struggled not to cry. She was a Jackson Heights girl. She was tough. She could handle this.

Daniel heard Betty cry out, and heard the man taunting her with being quiet. He felt sick as he was hauled up, and roughly pushed to a shuffling walk. Once he was inside, he heard the man that seemed to be in charge ordering one of the minions to "stash the van" and sighed. Daniel froze when he felt the barrel of the gun in his back.

"Okay, now Meade, No reason to be a hero. You stay smart, and this will all be over with soon." Daniel heard the _snick_ of a knife being opened and thought his knees would collapse. He felt the tape on his wrists being cut, and cautiously brought them to his front, trying to shake some feeling back into them. He heard the sound of a door opening. "You stay smart now. Don't do nothin' stupid. I ain't the only one with a gun." Daniel was pushed inside. Startled, he fell to his knees onto the floor. He heard the sound of a lock being turned and something being dragged in front of the door. What did they think he was going to do; knock the door down so all four of them could use him as target practice?

Daniel pawed off the sack on his head, and pulled the gag down with shaking fingers. His hands were still numb and his shoulders hurt something fierce after being in the same uncomfortable position for so long.

"Betty?" he whispered.

"Daniel?" Her answering response was broken sounding, like she was about to cry. He didn't blame her, but was relieved to find out that they were at least not being separated.

"I'm going to see if I can find a light. It's pitch black in here. Just stay where you are and I'll be right there." He tried to project confidence and a sense of calmness into his voice, which was tricky since he wasn't particularly feeling either emotion. Daniel backed up to the door frame he was just thrown through, and felt along both sides of the frame for a light switch. He felt a quick spurt of glee when he found one, but flipping it produced no light. "Damnit!" He cursed under his breath.

"There's a table near me. I think. Maybe a nightstand or something. There might be something on that…" Betty's voice was a little stronger sounding.

"Good idea." Daniel used the wall as a guide, and walking towards where he heard her voice from, he slowly made his way into the room. He did indeed find something table-length, and reached out blindly. He could feel a lampshade… a lamp… _Aha_.

He turned the switch and blinked rapidly as the lamp actually turned on. His eyes adjusted to the weak light source, and immediately looked down to where he had heard Betty speaking.

Daniel felt a shot of guilt so strong it was almost incapacitating when he saw her pathetically curled up into herself, with her back against the wall. There was a piece of tape over her eyes, and looped several times around her wrists, that had been tied in front of her.

"Oh, Betty…." He whispered and fell down next to her. He wanted to hug her, but wanted to get her free more. He settled for a quick, hard hug, and then went to picking at the tape on her face. It wasn't meant for skin, and it looked like they had hit the end of the roll when they taped her eyes, because Daniel could see some of the cardboard still clinging to the tape.

"I hate to say it, but I'm glad they did your hands first… If they had had just a little more tape you would have had it over your mouth too."

She nodded. "Just get it off, please. I want to be able to see. Please?"

Daniel had this bizarre urge to kiss her on the forehead. "Of course. Just a sec, okay? It's going to hurt like a son of a bitch."

Betty tensed, and waited for him to rip it off. It hurt, but it wasn't actually as bad as she had feared. Her eyebrows probably looked a little crazy, and her eyelashes might need to be surgically replaced, but either tears or sweat had caused the tape to lose a lot of its stickiness. Betty blinked rapidly, trying to allow her eyes adjust to the meager light. She saw Daniel kneeling next to her.

She lost what little composure she had, raising her tied arms and putting them around his neck. His arms came around her, immediately comforting and warm. Betty tried not to sob out loud, But Daniel's whispered "Shhh…it's okay...we'll be okay…" made her lose the little control she had. She felt his hand on her head, stroking her hair as she cried.

Daniel held onto her with one arm, and tried to comfort her as best he could. He'd only seen Betty cry a handful of times. The first time was when she was wearing that god-awful ensemble for lunch with Vince Bianchi, crying in the restroom after Wilhelmina humiliated her at the staff meeting. Daniel was ashamed to remember that while he felt sorry for her, he was more motivated by needing her at that lunch to seal the deal than actual empathy. The second time had been recently when Betty was crying over that assclown, Jesse. Daniel had felt strongly that he could make her feel better; that he could offer her some friendship and comfort. He felt proud of her for being willing to put her feelings out there. He had felt honored that she had confided in him. And he had wanted to shove Mr. Famous Wannabe Rockstar's guitar down his freaking throat for making Betty cry. But holding her now as she let out all the pent up emotion humbled him.

"Betty, I'm so sorry for all of this." He whispered.

That caused her to pull back enough that she could look up at him in the dim light. She removed her arms and held them out to him mutely, wiping her face on her sleeve near her shoulder.

Daniel immediately felt bereft and regretted speaking what he had been thinking. He looked at her wrists and cocked his head to the left, thinking.

"I think we're going to need something sharp to get that off." Daniel scooted back so he wasn't as close to her body space, suddenly feeling awkward and gauche. He used the table for leverage, wincing when his ribs gave a warning twinge at the movement. He looked around the room that they were in for the first time.

It was some kind of hotel room. A brat cage, his mother would have said. (The idle thought about his mother and how she was probably going crazy with worry without him or Alexis around was quickly cut off.) It was a smallish room, with a bed in the center. The furnishings were very inexpensive: the bed decorated in a hideous teal and orange floral print, one small bureau on the opposite side from them, seaside pictures glued to the actual walls, and a table and chair near where them. Daniel realized the room that they were in what was normally probably used by families with children- a separate bedroom for the offspring to sleep away from the parents. There was no television or windows. Daniel's heart leapt when he saw the telephone on the table, but cursed when he saw that the cord to plug it into the wall was missing. There was a door on the wall near the bureau. That was it.

Betty was struggling to pull herself up. Daniel, feeling like an idiot, reached out a hand to help her. Betty walked over to the bed. She raised her wrists over the corner of the headboard (that was also bolted to the wall) and tried to catch the tape on the edge to tear it.

"I'm going to go look in there, okay?" Daniel walked over to the door and tried the knob.

Betty nodded absently, still working the tape over the sharp edge of the headboard.

Daniel opened the door, and flipped on the light. It was a bathroom, with a sink and a toilet. It was completely bare, with no cabinets or anything on the walls, other than more ugly seascapes glued to the hard surface. A large, brown roach skittered up towards a crack in the wall.

 _Ew_.

Daniel shut the door, wrinkling up his nose in distaste. He loathed those things. Living in New York they were a part of life, but that didn't mean that he had to likethe little buggers.

Turning, he walked back over to Betty, who had stopped trying to cut the tape and was pulling at it with her teeth. "Here. Do you want me to try?" Betty gave him a look, and he felt his cheeks heat with color. Okay so that might have been a dumb question.

Between the teeth and the little corner edge of the headboard, she had gotten a smallish tear in the tape around her wrists. It took Daniel a few moments (where he felt like a complete wimp) but he managed to rip it apart. They both pulled it off their wrists, wincing at how it pulled hair. Betty picked at it over her watch, and managed to free the small piece of jewelry.

Betty sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck. Daniel watched her toe off her pumps and rub her hip absently with the other hand.

"Did you bump your hip?" He asked, wanting to fill up the silence in the room with something, no matter how banal it sounded.

"No that guy...I call him Chuckles…kept grabbing me. I think there's a bruise there."

Daniel twitched. He felt impotent by the quick spurt of rage that they would dare hurt her.

Betty stretched, wincing when her back popped. In doing so, she caught her first glance at Daniel's face in the light, dim as it was. "Oh my God. Your cheek!" Betty was shocked to see the small cut that had scabbed over. The skin around it was swollen and starting to bruise. She reached out to touch it.

Daniel tilted his head back as if his Auntie Sadie was coming after him to pinch a cheek. "Uh, sorry. It's kind of tender."

Betty, unoffended, just nodded. Daniel wasn't really a touchy-feeling sort of person. It was hard for her to remember that sometimes. "I bet." She said instead. "So, was that the bathroom?"

"Yeah, it's not very clean. But it'll do I guess." Betty found herself smiling a little at his disgruntled tone. "Well, it's not the Ritz, Daniel. I'll be sure to tell them that their accommodations don't meet your approval." Daniel found himself smiling back.

They both sat on the bed, with their backs against the headrest, stretching out their legs.

"I want my Dad." Betty sounded like she was about five years old.

Daniel sighed and reached his arm out so that it went across her shoulders. Betty kind of tilted her head into his arm. They sat like that while they listened to movement from the other room, lowered voices, and occasionally a door opening or closing.

"Hey Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Who would want to do this to you?"

And Daniel tensed. He knew how Betty's mind worked. She could be as tenacious as a Doberman with a new chewy toy when she was trying to figure something important out. To tell the truth, he had been thinking of almost nothing else since they had attacked him in his office. Well, if by 'nothing else' one meant was Betty okay, was he okay, should they risk escape…

"I really can't think of someone in particular. I have…um…made a lot of enemies. But I never dreamed that anyone would take something I've done this personally."

"Keep telling yourself that it's nothing personal. They just want money, right?"

"I guess." Daniel sighed.

They were both quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. Betty straightened up and Daniel reluctantly took his arm back. She sat so that she could take off the suit jacket (A blue, purple and green one that was one of her favorites) Daniel tried to help her as best he could. He hissed as the bendy movement made his ribs twinge. Betty tossed her jacket in the general direction of the chair, and pulled her blouse (the black and yellow checks really did make a statement, she always thought, even though Justin always mimed hailing a cab when he saw it) out of her skirt. She sighed, as comfortable as she could get in the work clothes, and sat back on the bed.

Time passed in a comfortable silence; neither of them particularly felt like talking. Betty looked at her watch and sighed.

Daniel moved off of the bed, and walked towards the bathroom. He cautiously peeked in the small room- half afraid that the roach from before would have brought a friend and was having a party- then went inside and shut the door. He unzipped and stood there, sort of staring off into space for a moment. He was jarred out of his daydream by the sound of a loud crash and Betty's startled scream.

Daniel was so startled and in such a hurry to get out of that bathroom, that he later thought he was damn lucky to not do permanent damage with the zipper.

He opened to door to see two men holding guns on Betty, who was half on and off the bed with her hands held up. Both guns swung in his direction as the bathroom door crashed against the wall.

 _Good thing I already did my business_ , Daniel thought crazily. He quickly raised his hands, afraid to take the time to button his trousers back up.

"Okay, everyone just calm down." A third man spoke irately from the room. Daniel saw him stick his head through the doorway. It was Leader. All three men were still wearing the material over their faces. Now that there was light, Daniel could see that the material was somewhat like nylon, thin enough to allow visibility, but thick enough to obscure all facial features.

"Look, Meade…Lady…we are just doing a job here. As long as you guys know who is in charge and don't do nothin' stupid, there ain't gonna be problems here, right?" He walked fully into the room. "One of my associates is out getting you food, and will be back any minute. You two can just relax a little. "Hey, Bob. Make sure that gun stays on Meade at all times."

One of the kidnappers elbowed the other hard in the ribs. "Hey. Your name is Bob, remember? So they can't identify us?" The man stage whispered, causing Leader to roll his eyes.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." The man spoke in a clipped accent that Daniel couldn't quite place. He actually sounded vaguely familiar, in a way that Daniel knew would annoy him until he remembered where he had heard it. From his vantage point, he could see that Betty had stiffened in recognition when "Bob" had spoken.

The other man swung his gun back onto Betty. They backed slowly out of the room, neither lowering their weapons. They didn't seem to notice Betty's reaction, a fact that Daniel was grateful for. As soon as the door closed, the two looked at each other. Stepping closely enough to whisper, Betty hissed, "I know him! That Bob guy!"

Daniel's eyes widened, although he had been expecting as much. "Who?"

"He's the custodian that comes in during the late evening. He's usually there by six or so- anyway late enough that when I go to make a food run, I always ask if he wants anything. He replies, 'Nope. Nothing. Thanks.' in the same sort of way!"

Daniels hands came up to cup her shoulders. "Wow. You recognized someone from just three words? That's…that's pretty amazing." He looked down into Betty's upturned face, bright with excitement. There was a small red spot under her eyelid near the left side of her nose from the tape having ripped off a few layers of skin. Without really thinking about it, Daniel reached down and gently ghosted the fingertip of his hand over the sore spot. Betty blinked up at him a bit myopically. He watched the smile sort of dim and fade away as she shivered. Daniel frantically searched his brain for something to say. He couldn't just keep staring at her or he would probably kiss her. And he couldn't kiss… _Betty._ "You never cease to impress me. I don't think I've ever met someone who thinks as quickly on their feet as you do." He got to watch her smile bloom again.

Betty couldn't have said how long she stood there like a complete idiot, grinning goofily up at Daniel. She saw a… _something_ …a look? A feeling?...Something that she couldn't quite put a name to flit over his features. In the dim light, the emerging bruises on his cheekbone weren't as prominent. She bit her lip a little nervously. He was just…standing there. Holding her arms….Staring down at her with that strange look on his face.

The sound of the doorknob turning shocked both of them into stepping apart from each other.

"Aw, did we interrupt something?" The sound of Chuckles's cold voice caused Betty to flinch. She couldn't see the exact expression on his face from the nylon mask, but she could easily infer that this man was not a nice person. He was accompanied by the bulkier guy that had stage-whispered to Bob who was holding two grease-stained bags with a familiar golden arch on them.

"Yo. Tiny. Put the food on the table while I keep these two covered. Then you watch the guy and I'll have Beauty here get the food ready." Betty hugged herself as she saw the gun trained on both her and Daniel. It was rather a cliché to call the big, muscular, bulky man "Tiny" but as name it would do. It certainly was a little easier to say than Big, Muscular, Bulky Man. He set the food on the table and pointed his weapon at Daniel. Daniel put his arms up again. He wasn't really sure what else to do.

Chuckles gestured with the gun for Betty to come closer. "Come on, sweet thing. Why don't you unpack that food for me?" Betty didn't particularly want to get any closer to him, but had to in order to unpack the food. It did smell heavenly…even for fast food.

Daniel was thinking furiously. Where there was McDonalds, there was civilization. He didn't even know if they were still in New York, although from the length of time spent in the van he figured they were close. Where there was civilization there were phones. Where there were phones, there was rescue! All he had to do was overpower the two dickheads with the guns, grab Betty and make it out into the unknown, somehow incapacitating the _other_ two dickheads with guns. Daniel scoffed to himself. Hell, they'd have better luck if they squeezed through after the bug in the bathroom.

He watched Betty walk towards the table. It wasn't much of a walk; more like a step or two for her shorter legs, but she did so with extreme reluctance. Daniel watched her open one of the white bags, and was shocked with the man pulled her back against his body. Daniel started to step forward, but was brought up short by the gun pointed directly at his heart.

"Here, honey. Go ahead and get everything out." The man took his gun and let the tip trace down Betty's neck, then spine.

"Hey!" Daniel protested angrily. Betty's head was down so he couldn't see her expression, but she had curled in on herself so much that she tried to put space between her and the man that was holding her. Her hands were shaking so badly that when she pulled out the fry container, he could hear the contents shaking against each other.

"Tiny. If he talks again, shoot his ass." The man spoke lazily, and shifted so that his chin was over Betty's shoulder. With one hand, he pulled Betty back into him, against his pelvis.

Daniel saw red.

He yelled something (he couldn't discern actual words he was so furious.) and started towards the man holding Betty.

The gunshot, silenced enough not to draw attention outside of the room, made a sort of _zzzzt!_ sound. Chuckles, laughed again as everyone froze and lazily brought his gun back into Betty's back. Betty made a muffled squeak of terror.

Daniel had a bizarre urge to cup himself to see where he had been shot…. But he hadn't. The shot had gone into the carpet not three inches from his right shoe. It startled him enough that he froze again, eyes almost bugging out of his head.

"Shut. The fuck. Up." Chuckles turned to stare at Daniel. The look he gave him was so cold, so utterly devoid of warmth that Daniel swallowed hard. "Now, girlie. Take the bottle there and pull out three pills. Give them to your boyfriend."

Betty looked up at Daniel. He could see that her brown eyes were almost as wide as his. Her cheeks were so pale that he thought she would pass out. "P-p-pills?" she stuttered stupidly.

"Yeah. We thought we'd give him a little time to rest. You and I can… hang out." Betty took a giant step away from the man up against her, clutching the pill bottle in her hand. She walked up to Daniel.

"Now, wait a second. Boss said we was to make sure they got fed. Nothing else."

Chuckles smiled evilly. "Yep. He can eat after he takes 'em. Boss don't want him to get it in his head to escape." He looked at Daniel again. "Now take them. If you know what's good for you, that is." Betty had such a look of terror on her face that Daniel didn't know what to do. She counted out three with shaking hands, and held them out mutely to Daniel.

Daniel's brain worked furiously. He was terribly afraid that if they knocked him out, that would leave Betty unprotected. Not that she was really protected now- he couldn't move for fear of being shot. The way Chuckles had just tossed off the shot from earlier convinced Daniel that he was serious. But still, he hesitated.

"Take. Them. And for that, you better take one more." Daniel cursed under his breath and took the three pills. He had to dry swallow them. Betty handed him one more as two tears slipped down he cheek. Daniel took the pill and put it in his mouth. It left a horribly sour taste in his mouth. Tiny made him open his mouth to assure that he had indeed swallowed it.

"Okay, come on. Come here and give him some of this tasty food."

Betty walked silently back to the table and then back to Daniel, picking up the fries and a sandwich. Daniel took it from her, trying to show her that it would be okay.

"Eat."

Daniel did so, standing up. It didn't take very long. The food was greasy and not very warm, but he devoured it like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He almost choked, he ate so fast.

"Okay, now your turn, Chickie. I think two pills will be enough. We wouldn't want you to pass out too quickly. It'd spoil all this evening's entertainment." Chuckles leered at Betty.

"Dude. This isn't cool." Tiny wasn't watching Daniel as much as he was watching Chuckles watch Betty. "I didn't sign on for no murder, and I didn't sign on for no rape."

The word hung in the room for a moment. Betty visibly flinched.

Daniel felt his stomach lurch as a wave of dizziness hit him. He felt sick, like he was going to throw up the food he had just eaten. This was bad. This was really bad.

He heard Tiny and Chuckles arguing. Daniel shook his head trying to keep the sudden exhaustion from claiming him. He lost his balance and staggered into the bed. He heard the arguing getting louder, but couldn't focus in on what was being said. It sounded eerily like the adults from those old Peanuts cartoons, only louder and with more anger.

The room went from a gentle spin to a nauseating one. The last thing Daniel saw out of his bleary, watery eyes was Betty's terrified face looking down at him from about three feet away.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Wednesday, 2:50 pm**

Daniel slowly became aware of his surroundings; he blinked once, and saw a cracked light fixture with a naked, dangling bulb come into focus. He turned his gaze, noting that his head was pillowed on something soft. There was something over his eyes, but it seemed to have slipped just a little. A small window came into view, one that had been painted over. Some of the paint had peeled off and daylight shone in weakly. He turned his head a little more, trying to get the blindfold off of his face. More things were becoming clearer to him as he moved. He was moving. That is, he was lying prone in the back of a van. The van was moving. The soft thing he was pillowed on shifted a little. He heard a sleepy murmur.

He was on a lap. Betty's lap.

Daniel immediately tried bringing his hands up to get the blindfold the rest of the way off of his eyes. They were tied as well. What the hell. He felt like he had just gotten untied!

_Shit._

He could feel another gag. It didn't seem to be tied as tightly as the first one. He shook his head back and forth, cringing inwardly against the indignity he was doing to Betty's legs, but wanting that damn thing off of his face. Finally, by that and working his jaw back and forth was able to feel it slip off.

For the record, he didn't think he would ever let anyone tie him up for sex again. It had sort of lost its charm.

Daniel tried to speak, but it didn't quite work the first time. Between the gag and the remnants of the pills he had been forced to take, his mouth was horrendously dry and it took a little bit of time for him to work up enough spit to get the words out. "Betty?" His voice sounded creaky- like that of an old man. He turned so that he was on his back again. His arms were horribly numb but he tried to ignore the pins and needles marching up and down his arms to his fingers and back up to his arms like some huge swarm of ants under his skin. He gritted his teeth and looked up at her. Betty's back was against where they had sat…was it yesterday? God, he hoped so. He hated to think what had happened to her while he had been asleep.… Daniel shoved that thought away. Her head was lolling on her shoulder. She too was blindfolded, and gagged. Daniel could see that even in the dim light of the vehicle the blindfold was tearstained. The sight made his heart ache.

"Betty?" He tried again, pushing a little against her tummy with his head. He felt it when she awoke; could feel her whole body tense up. She tried to pull her body away from his.

There was a muffled sound from behind the gag.

"Betty…I'm going to try to get those off of you, okay?"

She nodded. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed to him like she relaxed a little when she heard him speak.

Daniel did sort of a crunch-style pushup to try to sit up. The world as he knew it spun, and he collapsed back against Betty. Daniel groaned. His head was swimming and he thought he might be sick. He wasn't sure if it was from being knocked around, from the drugs he was forced to take at gunpoint, or what- but his depth perception was off.

"Sorry..." He gasped. Daniel was determined to try again. He had failed her in every damn way possible- he was by God going to do this right. He pursed his lips and blew out three breaths, then pushed himself up, turning this time so that when he fell it was with his shoulder against the back of the van. He paused for a moment to try and get his breath. He still felt sick to his stomach, but it seemed to pass a little as he sat up.

"Okay, I'm going to try for the blindfold first. Mine was fairly easy to get off. Um...my hands are tied, so I'm going to take a page out of your book from the other day." Daniel scooted his body so that he was closer to Betty. He had to brace his shoulder against her and the van's wall, but managed to get balanced enough so that he could lean forward. It was awkward bending his taller body down so low to get to Betty.

He missed the first time. His lips brushed against her cheekbone, right under the gag. Between the two pieces of cloth, there was only a small strip of her skin, so one lip touched that and one lip the edge of the blindfold. She flinched away from his mouth. "Sorry…" he muttered. He moved his lips against the blindfold to try and move it out of the way. It wasn't working. "Turn your head. Maybe I can get at it from the back."

Betty turned her neck away from him. Daniel leaned forward to try the knot with his teeth. It seemed like it was taking forever. He could feel Betty's hair like a cloud around his face. It smelled great- like vanilla and strawberries. Her shampoo, he supposed. He inhaled deeply and tried again at the knot. When it gave way, she shook her head so that the blindfold fell to the floor. Daniel caught by the soft, fragrant strands of her hair had to wait for her to turn her head before he could extract himself. He smiled a little as spit out a couple of strands of her hair.

Betty turned her head towards Daniel, blinking rapidly. Daniel brushed his face against his shoulder to get the last few wisps of hair off of his face. "Okay. I'm going to get the gag, now." Daniel turned his head so he was looking down at Betty.

And froze. Bile rose to his throat. Daniel leaned back a little, fighting his body's response, trying to get a hold of himself. The blindfold had covered most of the damage. With it removed, Daniel could see the red sore at the corner of her left eye. The eye itself was swollen and bruised- red and green and purple all swirled together like a kaleidoscope of pain. There was a cut near the center, and it had scabbed over. The scab had broken with either Daniel's struggles to get the blindfold untied or just by being bound so tightly. A thin trickle of blood fell slowly down over her cheekbone, to be caught by the gag.

Daniel swallowed hard. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Betty. Did that guy do this?"

There was one, small shrug.

"Did he…did he hurt you somewhere else?" Daniel heard the menacing tone to his voice and tried to control himself. He could feel the tick on the left side of his face start. That always seemed to happen when he was about to lose it.

Betty hesitated, and then nodded.

 _Ooh no oh no…_."Did they… did he… were you seh.. uh." God this was hard to say. "Were you… " _Pleasenopleasegodnotherno_. "Raped?"

Betty's brown eyes widened, (even the swollen one) and she winced when the bruise twinged. She shook her head 'no'. Then did it again for extra measure.

Daniel thought he had never in his whole, entire life been so happy and relieved all at once. He was so elated that…he didn't notice that Betty wasn't quite meeting his eyes.

Had he had a hand free, he would have brought it to his face to cover it in relief. As it was, he just ducked his head onto his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. "Oh thank God. Oh, thank you God." Daniel didn't realize what he was whispering- he certainly wasn't particularly religious, nor that he was whispering it over and over until Betty butted her forehead against his chin. He turned and found himself kissing her forehead, then each eyelid before he realized quite what he was doing.

He felt a sudden urge to cover his actions with an urge to explain, "All I remembered was passing out." Daniel bared his teeth and used them to pick at the gag on her mouth. His teeth clamped onto the part near her jaw. That was where his had seemed the weakest when he wiggled his off. "I tried like hell to stay awake, but I couldn't." Daniel's words were muffled as he worked his mouth against her jaw, pulling on the gag with his teeth. "Maybe if you try to wiggle and push it with your tongue?"

Betty made a sound behind the gag.

"Well, there's no reason to be rude. It worked for me." If he could have he would have shrugged. "Here, let me try closer to your ear. Maybe if I can get it over that then it will slip off." Daniel moved a little on his knees so he could bend down to get a better angle.

Betty shivered when his lips brushed against the soft spot between the end of her jaw line and the start of her ear. "I'm sorry." She shivered again as she felt his breath tickle the shell. Daniel moved back a little and cleared his throat. Why had his voice sounded so husky all of the sudden?

Daniel moved back down, and tried again. This time Betty moved kind of jerkily so that the gag bent her ear over itself. "Almost…. Got it…." Daniel got closer to her face so that his mouth was around the gag; he nipped it with his teeth and yanked hard. It slid down her cheek and pooled around her neck. They both pretended not to notice the rather drooly wet spot on her cheek.

Betty worked her jaw a couple of times, looking bizarrely like the Tin Man in the _Wizard of Oz_ after he had just gotten oil.

"Oh…. That's so much better." Betty wiggled and squirmed, trying to get into a more comfortable position. She stretched her legs out in front of her. Daniel was dismayed to notice that the knees of her tights had been ripped out, and one knee was skinned. It was as though now that they were relatively better off, little details became more and more obvious to him. Betty's other knee was red and scraped. She was missing one shoe, and she didn't seem to have her jacket. His eyes widened when he saw that her blouse was missing several buttons. It gaped open at the front with roughly an inch of flesh uncovered, showing a pink, lacy bra. The cups weren't especially immodest, but seeing the cleavage peeking out through the shirt caused Daniel's body to go hot, then cold, then hot again. He knew his face was turning beet red. Daniel felt like he had just been called out as a Peeping Tom or something. He hastily averted his eyes. Then it dawned on him. Skinned knees, ripped shirt, bruised face? What the _fuck_?

"Betty, are you…sure that nothing happened?"

Betty looked away from him, hunching her shoulders. "I'm sure. And I don't care to discuss it further." Her voice was quiet but like steel.

Daniel's throat worked as he swallowed. He wanted to grab her and make her answer him. She said she hadn't been raped, but… was she lying? Something obviously happened while he was lying oblivious from the drugs, but what?" "So, what happened? After I fell asleep, I mean."

"I don't know. They argued, and Chuckles started to…well. Then he made me take some pills and eat a burger. I think I had about four bites before I passed out on the bed next to you. The last thing I remember was the Leader guy… he was yelling and cussing … something about needing to move us as soon as we were out. Then I woke up in here, with you on my lap."

Daniel's lips tightened. She really did suck at lying. But if she didn't want to discuss it- well, he wasn't her family. He wasn't her boyfriend or really all that close of a friend. Their relationship was so tenuous after the whole "Tornado Girl" incident, that he didn't feel right pushing her. Knowing that he had broken that trust hurt- knowing that he would have to prove himself again to her hurt more. He sighed, trying to make himself more comfortable. Daniel was surprised to find that he wanted nothing more than to nod off again. He yawned hard enough that his jaw popped. "'Scuse me. Sorry about that. I can't exactly cover my mouth."

Time passed.

Betty smiled. "I'm almost afraid to say this, but I wish something would happen. So far we've been tied up, taken to a room, then drugged, then tied up again, and then moved to and fro in a van. Kind of boring. Obviously these men haven't read Stevenson."

Daniel raised his eyebrow. "Bite your tongue. Wait. Stevenson who?"

Betty rolled her eyes. "Stevenson? As in Robert Louis? Are you sure you went to college?" Her voice was teasing, but it was obvious her mind wasn't on the conversation. She kept shifting around, moving her shoulders.

The two tried to make themselves as comfortable as they could, trying to ignore the pins and needles as they sprung up, and ignoring them when they became too prevalent. It was not an uncomfortable silence. Just… neither of them quite knew what to say to each other. Daniel had just about started to doze off when it happened.

There was a loud, vehicle-shuddering _**BANG!**_

The van's tires shrieked, and both Betty and Daniel were thrown against the center partition when the driver slammed on the brakes. They both screamed, completely shocked by the suddenness of the vehicle's movement. Daniel and Betty knocked heads when the van seemed to lift off of the road. Betty was thrown on top of Daniel and they knocked heads again when the vehicle skidded on its side. There was a scream of metal, a sickening thunk and crash of breaking glass, and silence.

They both stayed still, listening to the ticking of the engine, and the occasional clink of glass dropping onto something metal. There were no sounds from the front of the van.

Daniel gingerly stretched his muscles, trying to see if anything was broken. He was almost afraid to open his eyes; he was worried that the blood he felt on his face wasn't his own. He was also afraid he had accidentally wet himself.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Betty on top of him; He could just see the top of her head. Her face was buried in his chest. Her hair was everywhere, blocking his eyesight. He could feel that there was something wrong with his back. He was guessing that his nose was bleeding- possibly broken. He struggled under her, and felt her roll off of him. Nothing else seemed to be too hurt.

Betty rolled off and as her long hair slid off of his face, Daniel opened his eyes wide in shock.

"Betty. The door… it's open!"

They both turned their heads towards the light. They could see that the van was on its side, (Daniel had known this before, but seeing it was like a physical slap to the face) and the back door had been broken so that it was falling off its hinge. The window had been cracked and much of the glass had been broken out.

Then they were both moving at the same time. Not caring about the glass, Betty hit the door with her shoulder. It opened, and she fell out onto the pavement.

Daniel took one quick look around the back of the small space. He saw nothing that could be useful. He followed Betty out of the van and into the unknown.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Wednesday 3:45 pm – Jackson Heights, Queens NY**

There was a knock on the door.

Justin sighed and got up from the couch. He didn't particularly _want_ to answer the door, but that's what you did. Weddings, Funerals, and apparently even Kidnappings… people brought food. Grandpa was in the kitchen cooking. His mom was sitting with a friend of hers on the couch. Hilda had been crying since last night- since they had gotten the call.

Justin remembered it with perfect clarity.

He was watching television. _Lost_ was on, and it took a lot for him to actually take his attention away from the screen in case he missed something vital to the show's plot. It was bad enough that he had to catch up because they were on that ridiculously long hiatus….

The ringing of the phone happened just as Jack started to cry about something or another. . Why _was_ that dude always crying? It was kind of…weird.

"Hello?" If his voice was a little impatient, well that wasn't his fault. People should know not to call here around dinnertime.

"Mr. Suarez, please. This is Special Agent Michael Henries with the FBI."

Justin felt a spurt of abject terror at the words. What did the FBI want with Grandpa? Was it his mom? Did something happen to her?"J-just a moment. I'll get him."

Then things were fuzzy.

_Ignacio had come out of the kitchen, taking the dishtowel and slinging it over his shoulder, then stumbled into a kitchen chair, the phone falling to the floor in shock…_

_His mom coming home in a hurry, panicked and screaming and blazing away on her cell phone…._

_People filling the house like Betty was already dead, giving Justin, his mom and his grandpa their condolences…._

_The three of them switching back and forth from CNN to MSNBC clutching each other in an awkward three-way hug on the couch, all three of them desperately heart-sore as they watched the news…._

Justin shook his head to rid himself of the memories. His grandpa and his mom had both gone upstairs to get some sleep. He walked towards the door. Justin was weary of the reporters, weary of the neighbors' endless kindnesses…. He just wanted them to leave him and his family _alone!_

He opened the door and forgot what he was going to say. _Claire Meade_ stood there, wrapped in a black, leather trench coat. She had a hat and a veil over her face. God knew how she had made it past all the reporters, but she was standing there.

"May I come in, please?" Her lovely voice was shattered from emotion. Justin raised his own sad face to hers. He nodded, and opened the door the rest of the way, standing aside so that she could come inside.

Claire took off her hat and veil and looked around the small room. It was as different from her own living room as night was to day. She had been here before, of course but it had been long enough ago (not to mention she had been drunk enough to give off fumes) that the details were fuzzy. Her first impression was a jumbled mass of clutter, put together in such a way to look homey and comforting. Knick-knacks were jumbled together with religious statues which were mixed in with pictures of the Suarezes at various ages.

"Mrs. Meade, can I take your coat? Get you something to drink?"

Claire shook her head mutely. If someone had asked her, she didn't think she could have formed an answer as to why she was here, in Queens, when she could have been home. _Should_ have been home, probably. Claire turned her hallow gaze to the boy in front of her. She had seen him off and on for various reasons, but it struck her now how quickly he had grown up in a short amount of time. He was taller and his face had started to show hints of what the man he would become would look like. She let him lead her to the couch.

The television was on, but muted. Claire flinched to see herself on television, her Lincoln pulling up to the curb. She watched herself move like a zombie through the reporters as they all surged forward. She didn't blink, or respond in any way. Numb.

Justin was at a loss. He watched as the older woman sat down on the couch. He was all at once horribly embarrassed to see the fine leather of her coat against the nubby, warn material of their old couch. It sagged in the middle, and Claire was listing a little to the left, unnoticing, eyes focused on the news. She still hadn't spoken since he asked to come in.

As quietly as he could, he went upstairs to get his grandfather. A short, whispered conversation later and Ignacio was coming downstairs, trying to fix his sleep-mussed hair, pulling a robe on over his pajamas. Justin sat on the stairs, a few steps down so that he could hear their conversation unnoticed.

"Mrs. Meade? Claire?" Ignacio's spoke kindly, gently so that he wouldn't startle her. He sat down beside her on the couch. She turned her head towards him.

"I shouldn't have intruded. It's just that…." Claire broke off, unwilling to voice the thought out loud. Ignacio, with the sort of sixth sense you get as a parent, all at once realized what Claire had been going to say before she trailed off.

She didn't have anyone else. Her husband was dead, her daughter was… well… somewhere else, and her grandson was an ocean away. All she had left in this world was Daniel and he had been stolen from her protection. Ignacio was all at once so grateful for Hilda and Justin being here to share his ordeal that he had to clear his throat against the sudden blockage. And this woman, this poor, proud woman had no one.

"I'm so… so dreadfully suh-suh-.." her voice broke.

"Hush now. There's no reason for you to be sorry for anything. They will be fine. You've met my daughter, Mrs. Meade. Can you imagine keeping her away from anywhere she really wanted to be?" Ignacio had been hearing Hilda and Justin tell each other and him the same sort of thing over and over since they had gotten the phone call. In a strange way, it helped him to hear himself say it out loud. "Forgive me for not inviting you over earlier. You shouldn't have to go through this by yourself. And no more of this nonsense about being sorry. The people who have done this to our children should be sorry. Nothing you or I could have done would have prevented this, short of tying them up in the basement." It was as if each word that came out of his mouth took a load of pain off of his shoulders.

He heard the woman sitting next to him sniff, and watched as her eyes, so filled with the same pain that filled his, leak tears. Ignacio reached out and put his arms around her. There was nothing sexual in the hug, just one lost parent trying to seek comfort from another.

From the stairs, Justin wiped his own eyes. He had a sudden urge to go give his own mother a hug, sleeping be damned.

 

* * *

 

**Wednesday 6:00 pm**

Daniel got to his feet awkwardly. Betty was standing a little bit away from the van, her long hair blowing in the wind. Daniel eyed the twisted metal of the door. It had a jagged edge from one of the tears in the door, and he was pretty sure that he could use it to free his hands. He saw Betty walk to the front of the van.

"Wait… I'm not sure that you should…"

"Oh, quit treating me like an idiot, Daniel," Betty snapped. "If they were going to jump out and grab us they would have done it by-"Betty trailed off. There was a moment of silence in which Daniel had just enough time to wince with foreboding. Sudden silences were never good. He felt the bindings around his hands give way just as he heard Betty start to retch.

Daniel's elation at being free was quickly stifled as he heard Betty's distress. He hurried to the front of the van. It had crashed into a tree. The tree was cracked and broken; a good bit of it was leaning precariously over the van. One of the kidnappers (It was impossible to tell which one without listening to them talk.) had been thrown through the windshield. The van was an older model, and it looked as though not equipped with safety glass. Two large shards had driven through the man's neck at impact, partially severing his femoral artery and part of his neck. There was a lot of blood. It covered a good bit of the front of the hood as well as dripping down onto the pavement. The dead man's hand still clutched the beer can.

Betty stood up and took a halting step away from the van. Daniel heard a soft moaning sound and walked to the other side of the vehicle as if he were in a dream. He couldn't quite believe what had happened. Everything seemed too bright- the green leaves of the wooded area they were at, the bright grisly red of the dead man's blood over the pale blue colored paint of the van- the gray of the asphalt; it was all just a little surreal.

Betty saw that he was walking and followed him- she seemed to be oblivious to the fact that her hands were still tied. They both saw the man at the same time. It was Bob- the custodian. He was at an awkward angle- the front of the van had smashed into the tree leaving him pinned between the metal and the steering wheel; he was bleeding profusely from a head wound and seemed to be… well. Pretty bad.

"Oh..!" Betty cried out and rushed forward to the man. Daniel stood back a little, unable to feel much sympathy for him.

"Miss 'arez..." The man's eyelids fluttered a little as he looked up at her. ….so….sorry. Tell Meade…" his voice trailed off and became garbled. He coughed, and blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

Betty turned her horrified gaze to Daniel. "You have to help him!"

Daniel just blinked. He wasn't a doctor or anything, but he was pretty sure that the man wasn't long for this Earth. He could see the bright white of the man's skull from the gash in his forehead. He took a step closer, looking down at the kidnapper.

The man's eyes rolled and he seemed to become more agitated as he saw Daniel. He coughed again, and worked his mouth. "They're not far behind. You… keep her safe...woods. Wasn't 'posed to... His words trailed off again as he gasped for air. The man seemed to want to reach out his arm, but it had been broken so badly that it just twitched. His other arm was horribly pinned by the crushed metal of the vehicle.

Daniel reached out and grabbed Betty's arm as the man's agonized whisper sunk in. "Betty- we have to go. Now! There are two others, God they could be coming up right now!"

He let go of her as his gaze was caught by a duffle bag that was spilling out of the driver's side window. He pulled on it, kicking the glass in order for him to get it all the way out. Daniel crouched down to pick it up. He pawed through it, looking for a phone. No luck. He looked in through the window. He could see a phone clipped to Bob's belt... but he couldn't get at it from this angle. He reached in, and managed to cut his arm for his trouble.

"God… dammit..." he muttered as he stretched to try to reach it. There was no way. The van was too crumpled from this side, but maybe he could get at it from the other side? As he stood up he caught sight of Betty's feet, her legs in torn tights, and missing one shoe.

She couldn't make a run for it like that.

Betty was ignoring Daniel and trying to comfort the dying man. Daniel recognized bits of the Our Father as he stood up and made his way grimly over to the passenger side.

He felt his own gorge rise as he saw the gruesome corpse. The door was smashed in, so he could either go in through the windshield (which involved him climbing up onto the van) or he could try the passenger-side window. He used the duffle bag that was still in his hand to smash the glass, stepping back as the already cracked glass shattered. Daniel's gaze was caught by the man's body; it had flown up and was partially out of the van- leaving Daniel with an eyeful of his sneakers. His eyes widened. He stepped up onto the footrest and was able to pull off the shoes. He was leaning in to try to reach the other man's phone, when he heard it.

The sound of a car.

Had he been an animal, his head would have turned so that his ears were towards the sound. Daniel thought his heart stopped as his stricken blue gaze met Betty's chocolate brown one through the grisly sight of the van.

"Daniel…" she whispered.

Daniel jumped down, holding the sneakers in one hand. The duffle bag he slung over his shoulder. He had no idea if it would be useful or not, but he was willing to take the chance. He sprinted over where Betty was standing looking towards the road from the direction they had come. Her eyes were wide, face pale under the bruises.

"Come on! Into the woods- we have to go!" Daniel didn't mean to shout at her, but adrenaline was pushing him into action. There was no time to untie her or have her slip on the shoes.

Betty took one last look back down to the man who was thankfully passed out… or already dead.

"Dammit, Betty there's no time! We have to go! That could be them!"

Betty nodded and kicked off her other shoe, body already poised for flight.

Daniel grabbed her forearm again, and they took off- running into the woods.

Betty grit her teeth as she ran as fast as she could- ignoring the rocks and branches that cut her feet. She didn't have her arms free, so branches kept flying back to slap her in the face. She tried to duck as best she could, but was having trouble. Daniel, bless him, was trying his best to protect her from the debris, but there was only so much that he could do. Betty couldn't be sure or not, but it seemed as though she heard a squeal of brakes, but that could have been the wheezing sound of her labored breath as she ran.

Daniel completely lost track of time. Nothing existed except for running, ducking and weaving through the heavily wooded area. He was sweating and the sweat was ice cold in the cool air as they ran. Finally, he felt Betty stumble and pitch forward. He fell to his knees as they both lost their balance. The shoes went flying one way; he and Betty fell to the leaves that had fallen on the ground.

Daniel felt ashamed all at once. How selfish was he? He could have untied her hands earlier…. "I'm sorry. Here, can you turn…a little so that I can get to your…hands? I heard that car and thought for sure they had found us…. He gasped out as he tried to catch his breath. Betty just lay on the ground, silent.

"Betty?" Daniel sat up, holding his side where a stitch had formed. He leaned over her and gently pushed her hair away from her face so he could see her. "Oh damn." He sighed as he saw the cuts on her face. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek.

She opened one eye and looked up at him. "Just for the record? You totally owe me a raise. I should be able to retire on just the dividends alone. Perhaps we could start calling it Suarez Publications?"

Daniel's lips twitched as he tried to hide a grin. Her joke was completely unexpected, as so like her to try to brighten up the moment with a bit of humor. He took back his hand and tried to cover his mouth. When he saw her exhausted quirk of a smile, he started to laugh. It hurt to laugh, between his aching ribs and throbbing head and back, but he did it anyway. If the sound was a little hysterical, well he didn't figure that she would hold it against him.

Daniel reached up and unhooked the bag from around his chest. Maybe there was something useful in it. He hadn't really had a chance to look before. Betty watched him from behind half-closed eyelids. (After their little sprint through nature, she wasn't moving.) As he unzipped it and dumped its contents on the ground, she heard him shout excitedly and blinked, unable to see what he had grabbed.

"I can't believe it! A knife!" He flipped it open and looked at the long blade. It was sort of a heavy-duty Swiss-Army knife. "I can't freaking believe this! I had one just like this when I was in the boy scouts. It has everything! Blades, a wood saw, a screwdriver, tweezers… even a nail file!" Daniel sounded like a kid at Christmas.

"Great. You can open the bottle of Merlot I have stashed in my bra, and do my nails why I drink it." Betty's voice dripped sarcasm.

Daniel's gaze roamed thoughtfully down the front of her body, almost without him thinking about it. He had been distracted with one thing and another, but it he thought again back to his earlier thoughts. It bothered him to see how much damage her shirt had taken. Why were the buttons ripped off? He opened his mouth to ask that very question, when some emotion flickered across Betty's face. She flipped over so that he could get at her hands.

She had been tied up with the large flouncy bow that had been around her neck. Daniel's lips compressed as he cut the cloth. Ironically, it had been easy to cut- which seemed slightly unfair considering how many times they had been tied up.

"Ohhhhh, ow. Ow. Ooowwww-wuh." Betty moaned as she rotated her shoulders. She sat up and stretched.

Daniel hastily averted his gaze, looking instead down at the pile of things that had spilled out of the bag. _What's wrong with you? Quit gaping at her like that._ He saw out of the corner of his eye that Betty had just ripped the last two buttons off and tied her blouse shut. Daniel saw goosebumps on the strips of skin her tied shirt revealed, and shivered again himself. It was getting dark. They had to figure out where the hell they were going, what they were doing and figure some kind of plan for doing it. He didn't have time to sit her gwapping at his assistant like a boy with a crush.

"You look like a boy… with a crush." Daniel could almost hear his mother's voice as she teased him. All at once a feeling of homesickness hit him with an almost painful clenching of his muscles.

Daniel gritted his teeth and started looking through the items at his feet. He found a couple packs of cheese crackers and tossed one to Betty. They both opened them and scarfed them down. There was one bottle of water, six more packs of crackers, a pair of sweatpants, a flannel hoodie, a t-shirt and some socks and underwear. Daniel tossed the clothes to Betty and unzipped the other, smaller packet of the duffel bag. He found a small Maglight, two packs of matches, and ironically… a cell phone charger.

"Well, fuck." Daniel stared at the cord in his hand. There wasn't any cell phone, no map that helpfully pointed out **YOU ARE HERE** , no handy copy of _Making It Through The Woods for Dummies_..

Betty blinked at the vulgarity. She hadn't heard Daniel swear a lot, and the word surprised her. She was almost too exhausted to move, but she knew that they couldn't stay here for forever. The clothes Daniel tossed her were thankfully clean, but she still had a few moments of trepidation before putting them on.

"What's the matter?" Daniel finished repacking the bag. It was much lighter now that the clothes weren't in it. Betty was sitting, staring down at the grey material in her lap with a strange look on her face. She picked up the pair of briefs with two fingernails and tossed them to the side. "Come on, Betty. We need to get moving again. I know the shoes will be too big, but you can't go around barefoot like that."

Betty sighed. It wasn't that she was being picky… but she felt a strange sense of guilt at putting on the clothes.

"Look. I'm going to go off over there for a few minutes. You get dressed. Our break's over." Okay so his tone of voice wasn't exactly the gentlest, but he was afraid that they would be found the longer they waited around. There was maybe about forty-five minutes worth of daylight left. The look of hurt in Betty's eyes made him want to hit something. Like himself. He got up and stalked off a few feet away to go pee.

Betty watched him walk off. Her eyebrows narrowed as she glared at his back. She took off her mangled tights and put on the sweatpants. They were so big that she had to roll them three times. She almost wept with how soft they were against her scratched and abraded skin. She pulled the socks on, and then hesitated over the hoodie. Daniel had on a t-shirt as thin as her blouse. It seemed greedy of her to put it on when she had the sweatpants. She left it on the ground and reached out to grab the sneakers.

Daniel came back near her, wiping his hands absently on his slacks.

"Hey, where did you get these shoes?"

Daniel paused. Off a dead body didn't seem to be the right thing to say. "They were near the bag." He lied. Well it was sort of true. They were on the man's feet which were near the duffle bag. He watched her rip the tights into two pieces and stuff them in the ends of the sneakers. Well that made sense. Her feet were obviously smaller than the sneakers original owner's. He watched as she tied them as tightly as they would go.

She wiggled her foot experimentally. Well, they would stay on. As long as she didn't o any long-distance sprinting they would probably make it. She bent over and grabbed the plastic wrappers from the crackers.

"We probably shouldn't leave these around." She also picked up the hoodie and scraps of her blouse bow and tossed the jacket it to Daniel.

He tossed it back. "You need to wear that. It's going to get really cold soon."

She tossed it back to Daniel. "I know. I got the sweats and the snazzy new shoes. You get the warm shirt."

Daniel opened his mouth. "No, you need to wear it. I'm fine. I'm hardly even cold." He held it out to her.

Betty rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. This coming from the guy who makes me get extra coffee for him if the air conditioner kicks on at 77 degrees."

Daniel swung the bag over his chest and walked over to Betty. He wrapped it around her shoulders. "Look. Please. Wear the damn thing. We need to go. If you insist, we can trade or something later, okay? But we have to get moving. I don't even know if they can follow our trail, but I'm sure it is pretty obvious which way we went."

Betty raised an eyebrow silently as she put her arms in the jacket. It too was blissfully soft. Her shoulder muscles screamed at her to be gentle as she worked the fabric on her sore body. She zipped it up, took the mangled bow and secured her hair back into a bun so that it wouldn't get caught on anything else. She already felt like she had been snatched practically bald!

Daniel chewed his lip looking back the way they had come. He saw Betty's eyebrow and looked down at her. "What? I was a boy scout once. I know all about trails."

Betty's other eyebrow joined the first.

"Why are you looking at me in that tone of voice? I _was_ a boy scout. Well, okay so I quit after that little incident with the Girl Scout camp, but I leaned all sorts of things about trails and the outdoors."

Betty rolled her eyes so hard that she was surprised that she didn't strain anything.

"Okay fine." Daniel had a bizarre urge to stick his tongue out at his diminutive assistant. "So I watch a lot of Man vs. Wild." Daniel felt his cheeks heat with a blush. "Can we please go now?"

Betty nodded. "I guess. We have to go somewhere."

Daniel folded up the knife and put it back in his pocket. "So which way should we go?"

Betty looked up at him. "What's a matter, Natty Bumpoo? Can't figure out which trail to blaze our way through?"

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N…. I hope that this chapter is well received! I had to put some levity in this story or I was going to go back to breaking out all my old emo tunes only lighting candles…. Erm. Yeah. So tell me what ya think! It's so incredible to know that people not only read your stuff but take the time to tell you it sucks, or it's great, or offer a suggestion. I'm always open for them! (Well, okay preferably the later two.)

* * *

 

**Wednesday, 6: 35 pm**

Daniel and Betty set off at a fairly fast clip through the woods, going in another direction from the one they arrived in. Daniel dug into the bag and got the bottle of water, passing it to Betty without comment. They walked in silence for several minutes.

"Hey, Daniel?" Betty's voice was pensive.

"Hm?" Daniel found himself having to carefully put one foot in front of the other. Waves of exhaustion were making him loopy. He was having trouble concentrating. Plus, and he could admit it to himself, he was frightened about the idea of the other two finding him. Frankly, "frightened" didn't cover it. He was petrified that he wouldn't be able to find someone to help them. They had been wondering around in the woods- there were no signs of human inhabitation whatsoever. No signs, no cabins, no trails…just woods, and trees, and the cold wind. And Betty. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but didn't think she would appreciate it. No matter what he told himself, or how he tired to spin it, this whole mess was his fault. If their positions were reversed, then he would be seriously pissed. Not to mention disgusted, and feeling hateful….

"What is your favorite ice cream?"

Betty's question, so out of place with what he was thinking, caused Daniel to stop short. He looked at her. Even thinking of ice cream caused him to shiver, and his stomach to wrap itself around his backbone. "What?"

Betty had an almost blissful look on her face. "I was just thinking of my Papi's fried ice cream. He always makes it when I'm feeling particularly like I need some self-medicating from Breyers- but don't want to go to the store. . It's so crispy and sweet on the outside and still frozen and all custardy on the inside…."

"Oh God. I'm so freaking hungry right now." Daniel whined.

"I never could make it right." Betty continued as if Daniel hadn't spoken. "I tried to the first time Justin slept over at my new apartment. And tamales. My dad used to try to get me to make tamales with him. It's not like they're particularly hard or anything- it's just meat inside of some dough- but I could never get the darn things to taste right. But when you bit into them, the pork would just …. Melt…. In your mouth."

Daniel was so focused on what she was saying, almost able to imagine it…smell it…to taste it…

…that he walked into a tree.

Betty stood there with both hands up over her face, trying not to laugh. Daniel gave her a rude look, and walked a little faster though the woods. Betty followed.

"George. George. George of the Jungle…."

Daniel clenched his jaw and focused on walking. He sped up just a tiny bit.

"Strong as he can beeeeeeee….." There was a giggle.

Daniel's embarrassed, angry mood abruptly changed as he heard the girlish sound. Betty wasn't a giggler. When she was surprised into a laugh, it was usually a full, bright burst of sound. Not the little "tee-hee" that he had just heard. He was fairly sure that their little "adventure" together had pretty much killed any laughter that he and Betty might have experienced in each other's company. And rightly so. There wasn't much that was funny about being kidnapped and roughed up. He crossed his hands over his chest as though he were really upset, and slowed walking a tiny amount so that Betty would still think he was angry, but could catch up to him.

"Ahhh-HHHH—Ahhhhh-HHHHH… Watch out for that TREE—eeeeee!"

Daniel had waited until she got to the 'Watch out for that' part and spun around on his heel, picking Betty up with one hand on her waist and one hand under her knees- and swinging her around in a circle. He threw his head back and laughed at her yip of surprise. Teasing her was fun, it was stupid, and hearing her belly laugh made him feel as though he wasn't such a screw-up.

Both of them were laughing…maybe even a little hysterically…when all at once they stopped as if a switch had been flipped. Daniel stared down into Betty's face, inches from his own. Betty's beautiful smile drained away until she was staring almost solemnly up at Daniel's face.

They looked into each other's eyes from less than a foot away. Daniel became aware of his heart thumping so loudly in his chest that he was sure that Betty could feel each, separate beat against her arm, pressed as it was against him. The tip of her tongue came out to moisten her bottom lip, and Daniel's gaze was caught by it, like a cat with a string, fascinated.

The sudden crack of thunder caused both of them to spring apart, and Daniel to almost drop her, so startled was he by the sound.

They both tilted their heads up to the sky. Neither could see anything with the canopy of leaves and the approaching dusk, but it had sounded both very loud, and subsequently very close. Daniel let Betty go, her body sliding to the ground. He was shocked by his sudden desire to let her fall against him, so that their bodies rubbed against each other. This was Betty. Not some girl he could treat however he wanted and damn the consequences. He took a step back, clearing his throat subconsciously.

"Um. We had. Er, better get going again. We can't be stumbling around out here in the dark."

Betty nibbled on her lip. Daniel blinked and tore his gaze away. _Quit that. It's not like you've never seen her mouth before! What is wrong with you?_

"Do you think we can find somewhere to camp?" Betty spoke hesitantly.

"Yeah. I think we should. Soon. It's not going to be particularly comfortable, but I think it's important to find somewhere. We'd only get hurt in the dark." Daniel looked back up to the canopy of leaves that were rustling faintly in the breeze.

"Like a cave or something?"

Daniel smirked as an idea came to him. "Well…. Something. Not a cave though. I was thinking of something a little…higher."

Betty's jaw gaped. "You can't possibly be thinking what I think you're thinking. Do I look like a squirrel?" She too looked up at the tree Daniel was staring at.

As trees go, it was extremely large. It had a full crowning of leaves of various colors. Most were green, but several had changed to a rich riot of reds, golds, and oranges in the early October weather. But what made it so spectacular was the way that the branches seemed to have been formed. It was if God had flipped though a picture dictionary and ordered up perfection under 'climbing tree'. The main limbs were strong, as solid around as Daniel's waist. There were several forks in the branches to provide footholds and handholds. But the cream on the coffee…the cherry on the sundae…was the half-hidden deer stand that was built into the tree.

"Think about it, Betty. They're going to be looking for us on the ground. You know they have to be searching for us by now. It'll be dark soon. No one will think to look for two escapees up in a tree."

"Well, yeah until one of us falls asleep and plops down on top of them. They're not the brightest, but I'm certain that even they would notice that!"

Daniel pursed his lips. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Well yeah! Anything that involves me not climbing a damn tree! I'm not…not so good with heights."

"Betty, you live in fifth floor walk-up."

Betty's hands came down onto her hips. Daniel recognized the mulish thrust of her lower jaw. He spoke quickly. "Hey now, I can help you get up there. And if you want to, I can hang onto you so that you won't fall. We can share body heat. Just think of me as your own personal teddy bear. I just don't think anything else will work. I wouldn't know how to find a cave in these woods if there was a bright neon sign pointing to it. And what about bears or wolves or…something? They could be out and about right now. Can you see right there…?" He pointed, encouraged when she followed his finger with her gaze. "Where there's sort of that warn-away spot in the bark? That would be a perfect backrest. And that other branch crosses just perfectly enough to hold someone's legs up so that they don't have to dangle." He could see that Betty was thinking about it.

"Oh, crap. I can so tell that I'm going to regret this. Fine! But I'm gonna go to the bathroom first. There isn't any way that I'm coming down once I get up there until it's time to leave." She mock glared at him, almost daring him to say something smart.

Daniel knew better.

* * *

 

**Wednesday 7:00 pm. MODE office conference room**

 

Wilhelmina Slater was not a happy camper. Yesterday, she had gotten the text from Marc and had spent most of the evening standing in front of her Plasma, in shock.

Wednesday morning, she had arrived as she normally did, a very subdued Marc meeting her in the lobby and coming up the elevator with her. He wasn't dressed flamboyantly at all. Even his hair looked depressed.

She had asked that he arrange it so that she could address the staff. She was in charge now that Daniel was…missing, after all. She had made it clear that no one was to be on the MODE floor until 2 pm, as requested by the law enforcement personnel. Unsurprisingly, most of the MODE staff had called in sick. Wilhelmina had left it to the various department heads to decide whether they were going to insist that someone come in or not. Surprisingly, nothing was "due," eliminating the need for people to be in the building.

It had been horrifying to see the police and the FBI looking in Daniel's office. Marc had told her that they had found Betty's glasses and purse near the stairwell, and blood in Daniel's office along with evidence that had spoken of an altercation. She saw all the lab techs, and police people…

And felt a burning sense of guilt. But she couldn't think about that now.

She had asked Marc to find out who was still in the building, and ask them to come in for an evening meeting. The police wanted to talk to the employees that were still here.

At precisely seven on the dot, Wilhelmina spoke. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for staying and for supporting each other in this tragic time." Which she thought sounded a little pretentious. She continued. "God knows, even I found it hard to concentrate in light of this most recent tragedy." Which was true, surprisingly. She had found herself staring off into space earlier, wondering where Daniel was now… what Betty was doing now… and so forth. She had nipped that little action in the bud before Marc or someone else that worked for her saw it. Wilhelmina had always been proud of her control, and channeled her energy into something productive.

She looked around now at the conference table. Marc and Amanda were there, of course, both sitting close enough to touch one another; both a little pale from the events of the day. Christina was there, crying quietly into a wad of tissues. But she was horribly hormonal, and emotions were to be expected. A few people that Wilhelmina knew Betty had worked with off and on throughout her day were there too. Connor was sitting to her left. Everyone was looking to her for some sort of guidance. Which were eluding her at that moment. She felt a lot of things. Guilt, despair, trepidation…. None of which were conducive to uplifting, inspiring words of comfort.

She had just taken a deep breath to speak, when she saw a small group of people come walking into the hallway off of the elevator. Claire was walking with an older man and a younger Hispanic woman that she didn't know. But she recognized Jason…Justin?….Betty's nephew.

Wilhelmina excused herself, left the conference room, and walked over to Claire. The two women had never been close. They never would be close. But Wilhelmina felt a surprising stab of grief for the other woman at what she was going through. She had people that reported to her daily on Niko's progress. Just because she wasn't the warmest mother didn't mean she didn't care after all…. But not knowing where your child was? Knowing only that something violent had occurred? How horrifying.

"Claire." Wilhelmina nodded at her, certain that nothing she was feeling was showing on her face. "I'm glad you joined us."

"Are you?' Claire flicked disinterested eyes at Wilhelmina.

_Touché._

Willie turned to the other two. "I assume that you're Betty's father. I am so sorry for your lo…" She cut off her words immediately. "'Sorry for your loss' sounded more like what one said when someone had died. I'm Wilhelmina Slater." She added lamely, so out of synch with the situation that she found herself in that she seemed to be moving about two steps outside her brain.

"Hilda Suarez. This is my Papi, Ignacio. We've heard a lot about you." The younger woman gave Wilhelmina a look that left little doubt to just what exactly she had heard.

Indeed.

Well, enough of this chit-chat. She was so horrible at idle banalities. She gave a small smile and ushered the small group of people into the conference room.

Wilhelmina took her place at the head of the conference table. The arrival of Claire and the Suarezes had caused a little stir in the people in the conference room, causing people to sit up straighter, or flick their eyes curiously towards the grieving parents and then guiltily away.

"As I was saying, there are some FBI agents who wish to interview us at our earliest convenience. I realize that it is late, but it is really more efficient to have all of us in one place. I'm sure that we will all cooperate to the best of our ability." Wilhelmina, who had long ago mastered the nuances of public speaking, was sure to make eye contact with each, individual person there filing away in who nodded, who looked put out

… and who flinched.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Wednesday, 9:32 pm**

 

* * *

 

The night had come up quickly.

Daniel and Betty had just got settled in the tree, Daniel sitting with his back against the bark, his legs stretched out in front of him. The tree stand would have been ridiculously comfortable for one person with a weapon and a cooler of beer. Part of the bark had been whittled out to put a little bit of a bump for the small of someone's back perfectly situated in the tree trunk. The platform of the tree stand has sloped just enough so that the hunter's feet wouldn't grow numb while they waited for an unsuspecting Bambi to come frolicking along.

It definitely wasn't meant for two people.

Betty had tried sitting against the opposite side from Daniel. Unfortunately, (or perhaps fortunately depending on your point of view) just about then was when it started to rain.

True, there was quite a lot of cover from the leaves. The tree stand had been situated so that the hunter would have some measure of protection. They found themselves getting wet, but not drenched.

At least until the wind gusted, dumping water down onto the both of them.

Betty held out for awhile, stubbornly clutching onto the board of the tree stand with both hands. Each gust of wind caused her to wince and almost lose her balance. She looked up at Daniel almost accusingly. Her face changed quickly when she saw how miserable he looked in the muted flash of lightening.

He was shivering in the thin dress shirt that he was wearing. His arms crossed over his chest, wrapped around his lithe body. He looked like a drowned rat.

"Daniel? I think you should take this jacket. You're going to get sick if you keep this up."

"N-n-n-no." His teeth chattered so hard that he thought for a moment that he would chip a cap.

He heard a sound that sounded suspiciously like someone sucking their teeth. He could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "Okay. I'm coming over there. You're going to turn into a little Daniel-sicle." Betty had heaved herself up to cross over to where her boss was settled against the tree, when another crack of thunder startled her so much that she tipped over, falling over and halfway on top of Daniel. They both gave startled " _oooof-_ "s of surprise. Daniel's moved his arms to catch her.

"Oh dammit. Oh double ever-loving dammit." Betty cursed, almost whimpering, completely hating the vertigo she felt at being so high up in the (scary) (wobbly) (ridiculously high up in the tree) deer stand.

"Huh-Hey. Relax. I've got you. I won't let you f-fall." Daniel's voice seemed strangely soft over the beating of her heart, despite the stutter.

She was able to move again after a few minutes. She had scooted over to him, and was perched there, digging one hand into the bark of the tree trunk and the other into Daniel's shoulder. His skin felt cold and clammy. Betty felt really guilty. Here, Daniel was freezing to death and she was worried about a little wind and being a few (million) feet of the ground. "Take off your shirt." Her voice startled Daniel out of mid-shiver.

"I beg your pardon?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Strip, Meade. Before you freeze to death and plunge most of the women on the Eastern Seaboard into deep mourning."

"Oh, ha-ha."

The lightning flashed, illuminating both of them to each other. Betty was perched on her knees, staring down at Daniel, and Daniel had his hands on the front buttons of his thin pinstriped shirt, looking up at her with a wryly amused look on his face.

He took off the shirt and heard Betty unzipping the jacket in the darkness. He shoved the sodden shirt in the duffle bag, and turned it so that the bag part was off to the side, leaving the strap Rambo-style across his now naked chest. Betty moved down so that she was sort of straddling his lap with her knees.

"Um. I know this is er… awkward… but I think that we will be warmer this way. Um. My front will probably generate more body heat than if I pressed up against you with my back. Plus, I'm uh... kind of afraid that I'll fall if I look down anymore. If I'm staring at the tree then maybe it won't make me so nervous."

Daniel was too surprised to speak. If lightning had flashed again, it would have shown him staring up at her with his jaw hanging open. He felt her straddle his lap and arrange her legs against the trunk. There was one branch to the left that it seemed she could rest her leg against. He assumed her right leg would just have to dangle. He felt her lean forward and press the front of her body against his chilled one. She was right. It was blissfully warm. He could feel the centers of her breasts (for some reason even thinking to himself the word "nipple" and "Betty" caused him to feel guilty) harden from the cold of his skin, and grit his teeth. She couldn't help how her body reacted after all. Daniel felt her leaning into him, and wrapping her arms around him, zipping the flannel-lined hoodie around the center of his back, so that they were sharing the jacket. Apparently she had taken her hands out of the sleeves, because her arms were moving briskly across his frozen skin, trying her best to warm him up. Daniel's eyes bugged out a little wildly when he felt her hook her right leg across the small of his back so that it was folded around him. It caused her to press down even more fully on top of him.

"Sorry…" she muttered, shifting a little on his lap. "I'm trying to get comfortable. My leg was just dangling off into space."

"No problem. You're right this is much warmer." Daniel tried not to squeak from the surprise of the suddenness of his assistant's crotch coming into close, personal contact with his. He had one fleeting thought of gratefulness for the fact that he was frozen solid. He could just imagine the sexual harassment lawsuit now….

Tentatively his arms came up to rest behind her back under the jacket. He could feel his face flush as the inside of his bicep brushed the outside of her breast. "Sorry!" He said, trying to concentrate on how cold, and miserable their situation was, instead of how good the warm woman on top of him felt. It was kind of an epiphany for him. He knew of course that Betty was a girl, a woman, remembered fully how humiliated he had been when she threatened mentioning "boobs" while trying to fix him up for a booty call (Betty would never had called it that, but Daniel was honest enough to call a spade a spade in this situation.) with Giselle. How far she'd come since then.

"Actually, this is much better." Daniel tried to project a conversational tone in his voice. He could feel the heat of her body seeping into his. Hell, he was surprised that his eyeballs weren't fogging up.

Thunder cracked again and both of them tensed, clutching each other for a moment. Daniel counted heartbeats between the thunder and the lightning. "It's moving off." He said quietly then relaxed a little bit.

"Are you feeling warmer?" Betty said as she tilted her head down a fraction so that she could rest her forehead on his shoulder.

"Mmm." Daniel nodded a little. The rain had all but stopped, although the wind whistling through the trees was still quite brusque.

Daniel heard his stomach rumble, and felt Betty smile against his shoulder. "I almost hate to move. I'm so comfortable right now I can hardly stand it. I just want to take a nap."

"I'm not really very hungry, but if you are, I can probably get to the bag easier than you can." Betty's soft voice made Daniel feel strangely more at ease.

"Nah," He disagreed. "I think I can wait until tomar- _rooo-ooohw_." Daniel yawned in the middle of the word, and turned his head away, not willing to move to untangle his hand in order to even cover his mouth. He heard Betty's snort of amusement.

The silence was fairly compatible- Daniel was sure that Betty was drifting off in his arms. He tried to move as little as possible to scratch the left side of his back against the bark of the trunk. The wind blew softly, rustling the canopy of leaves, occasionally causing a few leftover drops of water to fall on their heads. They both hunched into as protective a ball as they could, but the water still occasionally trickled down an ear or down someone's neck.

Daniel couldn't be sure of how much time had passed, but when he heard the crashing in the bushes about twenty feet from the tree that they were hiding in, it was enough to make him sit up as if he had been branded with a hot poker. His first panicked thought was that it was a bear… but a bear wouldn't have a flashlight.

He felt Betty stiffen in terror as they both heard the two men's voices raised in anger. Two sharp, concentrated beams of light flashed along the ground and over the bushes, but (and Daniel was relieved to notice) not up to the leaves in the trees.

"Look. All I was sayin' is that I don't see the point of lookin' for them in the dark!"

"Well thank God that you aren't being paid to think." The voices stopped almost directly under Betty and Daniel's tree.

"We ain't being paid at all, unless we find those two. I just don't think we can find 'em in the dark. Hell, they could be standing right behind us ready to smack us upside the head for all we know."

"Just shut up! I'm so sick of you complaining. It's just like when we was kids. Anytime anything got a little tough there you'd go off changin' the rules and then whining about it."

Daniel was almost afraid to move. Betty seemed similarly frozen. They had drawn just a little bit away from each other, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock. Daniel's eyes had adjusted just enough that he could see that Betty had smashed her lips so closely together that he could see the muscles in her lower jaw trembling.

"So are you saying that this is my fault?" The voice was menacingly quiet.

The men weren't wearing masks, but it was fairly easy to tell who the people were. A flash of macabre memory caused Daniel to twitch. The custodian was dead, driving the van. He hadn't been sure who the dead donator of Betty's new shoes was, but he could now figure it out. The man on the left, the one that told the other one to shut up, had to be Tiny. He was largely, almost obscenely muscled. In the reflected glow of the Maglite, he could see that Tiny's windbreaker was stretched over the huge biceps of his arms, defining them sharply. From the way Betty was trembling in his arms, he could tell that the other man had to be Chuckles. Truth be told, Daniel didn't think he needed the clue that Betty gave him; he was certain that he would never forget the cold, cruel intonation of that man's voice. This meant that the Leader, the one that seemed to be running things, keeping these men in line, had to have been the dead man that went through the windshield of the van.

Daniel found himself stroking up and down Betty's back, trying to calm her down wordlessly. He was afraid that she would cut her lips on her braces, so tightly was she clenching her lips together. Her head fell against his chest, much like when he had comforted Betty outside of her apartment a few weeks ago. Daniel rested his chin on her bent head, freezing once again as the wind shook the leaves of the trees around the two men on the ground.

"Yeah!" Tiny had turned and gave the other man a small shove with the bulk of his chest. "Yeah That's exactly what I'm saying!"

Chuckles took a step back. Daniel could see that one hand went to the small of his back, although from the angle that he was looking down, Daniel couldn't see what it was doing.

"You're blaming me for this?" Chuckles' voice was extremely tense and even quieter.

"Well yeah! You didn't have to do that to the girl. There was no point to that. No point. You were just supposed to give that Meade guy enough to make him easier to control for the pictures- not enough to knock his ass out, for Christ's sake. We didn't have anything to leak to the press- instead because of that fucking security camera they were onto us right away! We had to change the vans! If we didn't then maybe Mark and Chris would still be alive and not dead!"

Chuckles shrugged. "Whatever. More money for us. And I didn't do nothin to that girl. Well, nothin' that you can prove anyway. Meade was there but he didn't… notice." Daniel could almost hear the smirk in the man's voice. "Fuckin' candyass. Who passes out from four little sleeping pills?"

Tiny threw up his hands. It was by the purest bit of luck that the beam of the flashlight still clutched in his meaty hand didn't directly illuminate Betty and Daniel on the deer stand above them.

"You Idiot! I never shoulda asked you to help us. I never should of done that." Later, Daniel would think that Tiny probably hadn't meant to hit him. Nonetheless, while waving his hands and trying to make his point, one of his fists hit Chuckles on the temple, sending him staggering.

Everything else happened so fast.

Chuckles staggering from the blow to his head…

The hand from behind his back coming up with the gun…

The _zzzzit! zzzzit!_ Of the silenced gun…

Tiny falling backwards onto the forest floor as if in slow motion…

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, dimly aware that Betty was clutching him just as hard as he was clutching her. He didn't see what the lone man was doing, but Daniel heard the sound of Tiny's body being drug and the unnatural sound of leaves shaking. Obviously he was hiding his handiwork.

He was whistling when he shut off Tiny's Maglite.

Daniel didn't think either of them moved for at least an hour after Chuckles wandered away… still whistling.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Thursday, 6:05 am**

 

* * *

 

Betty woke up all at once. Daniel jumped when she did, and brought his arms down abruptly, causing the shirt to scrunch up. A rude draft of freezing air blew against Betty's shirt and Daniel's bare chest, causing them both to shiver.

She blinked up at him a couple of times, noticing that his eyes looked both bloodshot and exhausted. He had a couple of days' worth of stubble on his cheeks. His face seemed overly pale, with the bright purple and red swirl of bruises on his cheek and chin standing out in sharp relief. The circles under his eyes bespoke of not getting much sleep in the past few days. He bore very little of a resemblance to anything resembling the suave, sexy, confident Daniel Meade that she made coffee for every morning. Betty was sure that she wouldn't win any beauty awards herself.

Daniel was looking down and around in the predawn light. Now that she could see him clearly she was horribly embarrassed all of the sudden at their intimacy brought on by the night before. She unzipped the jacket and wiggled out of it, moving cautiously off of Daniel's lap and back over to the other side of the deerstand, crabwalking backwards on her hands. Her legs were tingling like crazy from their evening of virtual non-movement.

"I don't see any sign of him. And I really have to pee." Daniel's voice was raw and scratchy. He dug in the bag and got out both of the last packs of crackers. He held one out to Betty who realized how ravenous she was. She tore into the small pack of salty, cheesy nirvana. She kept wiggling her feet so that the pins and needles that were attacking lower extremities would slowly go away. She kept darting little glances up at Daniel while she ate the crackers.

Betty spoke through a mouth full of cracker. "Should we go somewhere else? I mean, the view is nice and all…but we need to find people. Lots of people. A phone. People must be frantic that you're missing, Daniel."

He looked at her and swallowed. "Frantic for both of us. Not just me. " He balled up the little bit of cellophane and held out his hand for hers.

Betty stared at his hand for a moment, wondering if it would be considered rude to lick the thin plastic clean. She sighed and handed over her bit. When their hands touched, she knew that she blushed, but ducked her head so that hopefully he wouldn't notice. She had been doing that most of last night: blushing over stupid, immature things. Her mind wandering when it really should't have been. Betty physically shook her head to get her mind focused again.

"So, are you going to help me down? I really don't think I can do it myself." Betty spoke quietly.

Daniel surprised her by hauling himself up and stretching. The jacket fell off onto the stand. Betty could hear the little pops and clicks as his back adjusted to the movement. He lifted the strap off his chest, setting it down carefully onto the wooden planks. He squatted down, wincing when his knees popped like firecrackers in the early morning light. Daniel took out his damp shirt and stashed the wrappers in the bag. He shook out the thin material, wringing it out as best he could. He shook it a few times, the sound of the crack of wet material sending a few sleepy birds into the air with indignant squawks. He tied it around his waist and held out the jacket to Betty. "Look there's no way in hell that you're not going to be wearing this. So put it on before I put it on you." Daniel tried to sound stern, but ruined it by grinning down at her.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." Daniel examined the tree a little more closely than he had been able to last night.

Betty watched him, wiggling her toes in the giant shoes, pulling the damp jacket onto her shoulders.

"See? I could't check last night with all the craziness of the rain and getting up here and everything, I knew that there had to be some kind of ladder or something. If someone had shot Bambi from up here, then they would want to get down quickly- not the crazy scramble that I did to get us up here."

Betty's eye's narrowed, remembering Daniel's hands on her tush, pushing her up the tree. "You mean…" she said with what she thought was amazing evenness considering the strange desire she had to bite him on the kneecap, "That I could have used a ladder?"

Daniel reached up into a Vee of a couple of intersecting branches, a-ha-ing with glee when he found a rope ladder rolled up and tucked into the branches.

Betty's glare turned particularly glacial when Daniel swung the bag back up onto his back. "I'll go down first to hold the ladder for you. "

She stood up and looked around her surroundings. The sun was peeking through the canopy of trees. Betty turned in a circle, careful not to fall, and looked out. She had her hand firmly on a branch, and was thrilled to notice that the vertigo that had plagued her all night had receded when there wasn't rain, wind, or kidnapping murders running amok down below. Betty had purposefully not mentioned what she and Daniel had witnessed down below all morning, and hastily put the random thought from her mind. She almost didn't recognize what she was seeing, so stunned was she at the sight.

"Daniel." She hissed. Daniel paused with one foot on the rope ladder. "Look at this! Look!" Betty was so excited that she was standing on her tiptoes- pointing with one hand, shaking it so that her pointing finger fairly quivered with barely suppressed jubilation.

Daniel popped up like a ground squirrel, looking up and over at where Betty was pointing. His mouth dropped open, looking at what she had been pointing at. "Bett-tttt-yy." He fairly moaned it, grinning so largely that her name was drawn out into almost an extra syllable. She turned and looked up at him, her grin matching his. Daniel was so thrilled, so completely elated that he bent down and kissed Betty on the lips, swinging her around in a circle. Betty squeaked and threw her arms around him, hanging on for dear life as her smaller frame left the uneven wood of the deer stand. Daniel was so startled by the softness and warmth of the quick touch of their lips that he forgot for a second who it was that he had just kissed. He found himself wishing that he could linger of them and….

He set Betty down carefully, and she reached up to her adjust her glasses, so shocked that she forgot for a moment that she hadn't had her glasses with her in two days. She quickly tried her best to hide how flustered the quick smooch had left her. "So… we have a direction to go! Do you think anyone's there? Do you think we can make it there? It does look a little bit far- but ohmigod, Daniel, what if that guy finds us or what if he…" Betty tried to get her mouth to stop running away with itself.

Daniel looked down at her and stepped away, blushing very slightly. He cleared his throat, only hearing the last bit of Betty's rush of words. "It looks pretty small, but that could just be the distance. But I think we can make it. And I can't be sure, but if 'That Guy' didn't want to look for us during the dark, maybe he slept in? At any rate, we should really get going."

Betty nodded. Daniel made it down the rope with only bashing his knee on the bark twice. He held the rope for Betty, who went down very gingerly, clutching the top foothold with a death grip and reaching out with each toe on the step below her to make sure her foot was secure before moving down.

They both went off in the woods, not straying too far from each other, but both in such a desperate need to relieve their bladders that any embarrassment at the other one hearing them was eclipsed by their need.

When they were finished, they both came out from behind the bushes rather sheepishly not looking at the other one. "Well. Are you ready?"

Betty nodded, both ready and willing, now with a goal in mind, to set forth into the woods. They started walking as quietly as they could (for two New Yorkers whose idea of "roughing it" was Central Park after dusk) horribly aware that it was possible that they weren't the only ones around.

 

* * *

**Thursday 11:45 am**

Marc St. James had a rather blasé approach to some of the social niceties that plagued the rest of the human race. He knew this, accepted it, and tried not to feel too guilty about some of his little foibles. In fact, one of his favorite (not to mention most lucrative) pastimes was so common and such a part of his everyday duties at MODE that he hardly felt a twinge of guilt at doing it. He had even thought of putting "professional eavesdropper" on his resume after the extensive practice provided here at the magazine.

Regardless, Marc found himself crouched in a little alcove in Wilhelmina's office, hidden behind an office door. He had been there innocently enough, trying to find a file he had stashed there earlier in the month when Willie and Connor had crashed into her office, slamming the door behind her with such a loud crack that it sounded like a gunshot in the small office. Any thought that Marc had had of making his presence known flew out of the window at the barely controlled fury that was evident in Wilhelmina's stride across her office floor. The sharp clack of her stilettos sounded particularly angry.

Glad that he had taken to wearing his hair down and not spiked up in its normal jaunty 'do, Marc peeked cautiously through the curtain. His eyes widened. Connor was draped in the chair, every bit of his body language fairly screaming dejection. Marc's brows creased. Sure, Connor was known to be a friend of Daniel's, but he looked horrible.

More horrible than the situation warranted.

"You. You…." Wilhelmina was so furious she couldn't seem to formulate an entire sentence. Her hands were clenched on the glass tabletop. She was leaning forward, beautiful face taunt with anger. It looked as though she were wearing a cold mask as she glared down at the Chief Financial Officer of MODE.

When she began to speak, it was with such whispered ferocity that each word seemed like its own crack of doom. Marc had never, in all his years of slaving for Willie, from everything from slightly illegal activities to Botox injections, had ever heard her this upset.

"You have exactly three minutes to explain what the fuck you've done before I call the FBI."

Marc gasped at hearing her swearing. Hearing such crudity from Wilhelmina's mouth was in a way even more shocking than anything else that had happened in the past few minutes.

Connor had one forearm over his eyes. He began to speak. Slowly at first, then faster and faster- words tripping over themselves as if they had been pent up for a long time.

Listening, still hidden, Marc's blue eyes, widened larger and larger, even more horrified than before with each word overheard from the outer office.

 

* * *

**Thursday 12:15 pm**

Betty and Daniel stood in front of the rough, wooden cabin both trying not to show their dejection at its obvious emptiness. They had come across it almost by accident. There had been a very small trail, hidden almost completely by overgrowth, leaves, and old branches. It had been quite an uphill hike to get to the wooden structure. Daniel, once again thinking of the Man vs. Wild DVD Box set that he had gotten himself for Christmas last year, did his very best to hide the trail again after they had passed. He stood there in front of the cabin now, rolling up the sleeves of his ruined shirt. He had put it on almost as soon as it had dried.

The cabin had a front door, and one window, both boarded up against use. It was fairly large; it took Daniel and Betty about twenty steps to cross to the other side and around to the back. There was another door here, a small screened area, and to the left near a small dock…and a boat under a tarp. The tarp might have been bright blue at one point, but had faded to a tired grey under the relentless sun.

Betty broke away and walked quickly towards the broken screen door. It hung on its hinges, rusted over and dilapidated. Daniel followed her. The back door was also locked. Daniel thought for about three seconds then tried to shoulder in the door. He was embarrassed to see that the force he used didn't force the door open at all. He was encouraged that it shook in its frame, took a few steps back, and tried it again.

There was a loud crack, a crash, and the door slammed open. A cloud of dust billowed back causing both of them to wave their hands in front of their faces, coughing and trying to see into the dim room. When no one jumped out at them, Daniel and Betty made their way inside. Betty shut the doors carefully behind them. Doing so caused the dim room to plunge into darkness. Daniel let out a very loud, very unmanly squeak of terror at the darkness.

Betty opened the door, but left the screen shut.

"Uh...that um, must have been a mouse or something." Daniel said, blushing furiously. Betty's lips twitched, but she didn't say anything.

They looked around the room that they were in. It was a small kitchen area. They could see a sink and what looked like a small propane stove set into a counter. To the left was a large shelf with two large boxes on the second lower shelf. There was copper wire neatly coiled near it. An old-fashioned water pump sat next to the shelf, a small box full of propane gas tanks near it. The other two shelves had cans on them.

Daniel and Betty both caught sight of something on the shelf.

"OH, MY GOD. A _ **PHONE!"**_

"OH, MY GOD. _**TOILET PAPER**_!"

They each eyed the other with an eyebrow raised.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Thursday 12:17 pm**

Daniel sprung towards the phone. It wasn't plugged into the wall, and his quick glance around showed no wall unit in which to plug it into. There was a faded red and black poster on the wall near the copper wire. Glancing over it in the dim light, he realized that the wire and contraption was actually a … pair of batteries? Where there were batteries, there was… power! The poster gave pictorial directions on how the solar panel and battery kit worked, giving instructions for the small solar powered water heater. Daniel squinted at it in the semi-darkness. He turned a crank, flipped two buttons, and there was a sound of electricity coming on. After a few moments, a small light in the other room buzzed then illuminated the darker interior.

Betty was standing there looking gape-jawed at Daniel. She followed him into the other room much like a duckling would follow its mother.

The larger room was not fancy. There was a bed. It looked to be a queen-sized, but Betty couldn't really tell until she lay down on it. The mattresses looked almost brand new. It was shoved in the back of the room, so that one side of the bed was flush against the wall, and the head of the bed was against another wall. There were two disreputable recliners set a little way in front of the bed, with a rug between them. They faced a fireplace. There was one bookshelf against the other wall, jam packed full with different books and puzzles. A hurricane lamp sat on a night table next to the bed. There was one shut door to the left.

"I bet that's a bathroom." Daniel said. He crossed over there and opened the door. He had a small charge of glee when he put his hand on the wall and flipped up the light switch. It was a small watt bulb- but it did the job. There was an old-fashioned claw-foot tub, a toilet, and a small sink. Another shelf with what looked like a small water heater, some more copper wire, and another battery.

"We'll have hot water." Daniel said it in the same revered tone of voice that someone would use when witnessing a miracle at church.

Betty had a moment of nerves. "I better go get the door. I don't want that guy to come up on us." Daniel nodded absently, still staring at the tub like he man in love.

Betty shut the door and looked around the room. There were two windows that had what looked like a thick cloth stapled over the frame of the window. They were boarded up from outside. Well, that made sense. With a cabin being out here in the middle of nowhere, it would followed that they would want something against both sides of the glass in case of a storm or animals or something along those lines. It was all to the better. No light would leak in or out, so they could have the lights on without worrying about being seen.

She heard Daniel behind her. He was rubbing his hands together, smiling broadly. "Alright. So we have a place to stay. This seems almost too good to be true, but we have heat and water and food and everything we need to catch our breath."

"Catch our breath?" Betty whispered. She had this bizarre urge to cry. This cabin's walls pressed in on her- like a barrier against whatever was outside. She had been so scared, so worried, so…. But now there was a physical barrier between her and the unknown. All at once the relief hit her so that her legs buckled under her. Daniel made a surprised sound and caught her before she hit the ground.

"Hey, now." His voice was gentle. "You're exhausted. Why don't you take a bath and soak for a few minutes- for... well as long as you need to. Then you can sleep." He guided her over to one of the chairs. He kneeled down in front of her and had her shoes off almost before she knew quite what had happened. He saw her slump there in the chair, exhausted.

She didn't speak and he got up and made his way into the bathroom. There was a water pump, with directions on how to prime it for use. Which was fantastic, Daniel reflected wryly, because he had no idea what the hell to do. Even with directions, it took some doing, but about fifteen minutes later, had some somewhat brackish looking water flowing out of the faucet. He frowned down at it, sticking his hand in the running stream of water to test for temperature. His frown cleared as the water turned less brown. He put the old-fashioned plug into the drain and watched as it filled up. Daniel looked around the small space. There was a small, ancient looking bar of soap with cracks running up and down its surface. He ducked it into the water a few times to rinse it off, and then left it on the corner of the tub. He didn't see any shampoo.

When he came out of the bathroom, Betty was still slumped in the chair, staring off into space. Her face was completely blank, as if she were carefully not thinking of anything in particular.

"Betty."

She started, as if surprised to hear her name being called.

"Come on. I figured out the tub and the hot water." His voice was gentle. She looked at him for a moment, as if processing what he said, then stood up and made her way the few steps to the bathroom. He moved out of her way.

Betty summoned up a ghastly smile; more of a grimace than anything else. "Thanks."

"No worries. Just be careful not to fall asleep in the water." She nodded and closed the door with a soft click.

Daniel scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to wake himself up. He was filthy, exhausted, and heart-sore. T _his is your fault. No fair whining about it. Everything that has happened to her Is. Your. Fault._ He wanted to cry.

Instead, he looked around at the bed, noticing that the hurricane lamp wasn't sitting on a nightstand as he had first thought, but instead a Rubbermaid container. The lid was brown, and the container a blue color. It looked old yet serviceable. He carefully removed the lamp, noticing that it looked to be well taken care of. His father had used lamps somewhat like this when he had taken him and Alex camping. For the first time, he spared a thought for the owner of the cabin. What if he or she returned while he and Betty were hiding here? Daniel sighed heavily. Well, whatever would happen was going to happen whether or not he was worrying about it or not. He had too many other damn things to think about.

The lid popped off with a muted crack. There was the smell of sandalwood and cedar that drifted up from the items in the storage container. Daniel's eyes drifted closed as he absorbed the scent. It smelled wonderful… and caused him to really realize how unwonderful his own unwashed body smelled. _Urrrghh._

He rummaged in the container, setting out the items he found. There were a couple of sets of sweats, several warn t-shirts and two flannel shirts. A small brown paper sack had underwear and socks. Everything was well-used, but clean… much like the cabin itself. There was also what looked like two thin towels and a washcloth. Daniel cried out when he saw the small ditty bag of toiletries shoved in the corner. There were a few travel-sized bottles of shampoo and toothpaste, and a toothbrush.

There was also a radio.

Daniel held it in his hands, dumfounded. It was just a small am/fm radio- nothing too fancy. That was probably why the expensive part of the phone was missing- the owner of the cabin had taken anything that could be considered valuable. He put it aside, and then tipped it to peer into its depths, making sure that he hadn't missed anything else. Two AA batteries rolled around the bottom. Daniel stood up, setting the radio aside. He held up a pair of sweatpants, checking the size. Grabbing the clothes, a towel and the small bag, he walked over to the door, and knocked gently.

"Still awake?" There was a mummer of ascent. "Great. I have some clothes and other stuff for you. I'll just set it inside. Take your time. No rush, okay?"

"Hmmm."

Daniel opened the door and set the items inside on the faded rug, then shut the door with another small click. He made his way back to the kitchen area.

Food. The idea of food seemed to have him under some strange hypnosis. His stomach cramped hard. Daniel's left hand drifted down and over his tummy, pressing slightly as if that would fool his stomach into thinking it was full. The cans on the shelf were horribly shabby, covered with dust and cobwebs. He didn't even take the time to read all of the labels. The first two cans were dented, but showed a picture of a bowl of beef stew on them. Daniel's stomach gave a hard lurch. He cast around for one of the pots, and set it on the stove. He hooked up the gas and grabbed a match, knowing that the fire had to be lit. Daniel jumped back, momentarily stunned when the wooosh of flames jetted out, singing his eyebrows.

He looked around quickly as if someone was going to jump out from under the sink, pointing at him and laughing. He found the can opener on auto pilot and dumped the two can's contents into the hot pot on the propane stove. It hissed faintly and he almost swooned as the smell of beef wafted out.

Daniel found a knife and a strange looking spork thing with a red handle, but no spoons or other utensils for eating. He stirred the stew, trying to ignore the mouthful of spit his mouth produced as he smelled the delightful aroma.

He heard the water in the tub draining away, and stood there a moment, stirring the food, not really paying attention to what he was doing. He found only a skillet and a lid (along with the lid that went on the pot he was using) but no plates or anything else.

"Damn," He muttered.

He heard Betty opening the bathroom door and her padding almost silently out back to one of the tatty armchairs. "Do I smell … food?" Betty called out, sounding interested.

"Yep." Daniel stirred it again as it bubbled gently. Then, shrugging, he scooped some of the stew out onto the lid, turned off the stove, and made his way out to the other room, where Betty sat in the chair, legs folded under her, head tipped back onto the headrest. "Here. We'll have to make do. I left the fine china in my other deserted cabin."

One side of her mouth quirked up in an exhausted grin. Daniel held out the pot to her. The handle was fairly warm, and she held it out, looking around for something to set it on. She set it down and reached up and over her head for one of the books that were on the shelf.

Daniel pretended not to notice how the t-shirt stretched over her chest. He sat down across from her, wrinkling his nose at how a small could of dust poofed up when he sat down. He found himself scarfing the food. It certainly wasn't one of the finer food groups (unless the USDA added "grease" as a food group while he had been transposing through the woods) but it tasted absolutely divine.

He heard a small snort from the table next to him, and blushed to realize that he had been licking the lid, trying to get every last bit of stew sauce off of it. With immense dignity, he stood up and (giving Betty a lofty look) stuck his dirty dishes in the kitchen.

He was sleepy, but couldn't stand the thought of being dirty any longer. He made quick work of the water in the bathroom, washed his hair, his body, and his mouth, and felt human again for the first time in ages. Wrapping the towel Betty had left hung up in the bathroom around his waist, he made his way back to the main room.

The sweats had been washed so many times that they were almost indecently soft. He hung the towel back up, picked up the pot and spoon that Betty had used to eat (he noticed that hers was scraped clean too) and set them in the sink. He turned off the lights and walked back into the main room. Betty was curled up on her side, facing the wall, fast asleep. She had pulled the covers down for him and he eased into the bed as gently as he could. His mind was blank, numbed from exhaustion and being full for the first time in days. Checking to make sure that the blanket was pulled up over Betty, Daniel turned so that he wasn't laying on his sore ribs, punched the pillow a few times to get it into a comfortable shape, and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Thursday, 6:54 pm**

Marc felt absolutely wretched.

He completely sucked at keeping secrets. It was something that Cliff had teased him about often. Thinking of Cliff, though made him even more depressed, so he firmly shoved that little thought back into the deep recesses of his brain where it belonged. It wasn't even his secret to keep!

He sighed, and jumped in his seat, startled when his blackberry buzzed.

 ** _Dinner? Sleepover? Dinner-n-sleepover?_ ** Amanda had texted him.

Marc smiled faintly. He had been hiding all day, working in various places where he knew Wilhelmina or Connor wouldn't be found. He knew that they hadn't known he had been in Willie's office, listening (because he had a feeling if they did then he would be In Trouble.) but there was no point in borrowing trouble. But as a result, he found himself avoiding Mandy, too. Which sucked, because she always knew how to make him feel better. He sighed again, and texted back.

**_Not sure. What are u making me?_ **

Of course, she couldn't keep a secret to save her life, let alone to save his. Okay so he didn't really think that Wilhelmina or Connor would put a hit out on him for knowing, but he needed this job. He had the YETI thing coming up, and was not willing to give up the prestige of being Wilhelmina Slater's assistant- no matter what heartache came as a result. So… Plan B then. Hiding in the closet.

**_Idiot. What makes U think I'd cook? I'll b at ur place at 7:30._ **

Well that made sense. Amanda had had to stay at a hotel while the police had gone over her and Betty's small apartment with a fine-tooth comb. Marc sighed again. Betty. In a flash, memories paraded through his head: Betty helping him out with his Mother. Betty trying so hard to be a friend. Betty helping him with Cliff. Betty being kind. Betty buying him lunch when he had been too busy to go downstairs and get something. Betty listening…. Marc ran his hands through his hair, making the gelled strands stand on end. No! He couldn't just sit here, hiding. He had to talk to Amanda. Maybe she could give him an idea of what to do. But before he left, he made one more phone call.

_Okay. Cya then._

* * *

**Friday 1:17 am**

"No…."

Daniel heard the pitiful cry and swam up out of sleep. It was hard to do, he was exhausted and it took a few repetitions of the cry before he realized who it was that was crying out besides him. It was pitch black in the small room. He couldn't distinguish any individual features, but could hear Betty twisting and turning in the darkness next to him.

"Betty. Betty?" He sat up and reached over to her, intending to wake her up. Instead though, when his hands settled onto her shoulders, she started thrashing even more wildly, crying out in a broken voice.

"No… please… stop…. Don't…." Her hands came up as if to ward off a blow, elbows dislodging his hands on her shoulders so that he fell forward flush against her body. She moaned in terror and arched, trying to throw him off.

"Betty!" Daniel yelled it, sickened and shocked at her reaction. "Betty! It's Daniel!"

"D-d-d…." she couldn't speak. She had stilled completely as if he had yelled _Freeze_! instead of her name.

Daniel wasted no time rolling off of her. "Shhh….hey I'm just going to turn on the light, okay?"

Betty's hand came out and gripped his arm like a vice. "No... Don't leave. I…" but she trailed off.

Daniel felt his hand almost of its own volition come up and start stroking her arm, like one would soothe a skittish animal. "I'm not leaving. I just want to turn on the light a little bit… okay? I'm not going anywhere if you need me." Her hand loosened a little bit. He leaned over, and feeling mostly by touch struck the match near the hurricane lamp to see where everything was at. It wouldn't be a good thing if he managed to knock the damn thing over in the darkness. He squinted, turned the lamp's little lever with his other hand, and used the lit match to light another one. The smell of the kerosene filled the room, and with a gentle _woooosh,_ the lamp lit. He turned back into the bed to see Betty cringing back away from the light. She was huddled against the wall, looking small and terrified from her nightmare. Daniel's heart simply melted when he saw her lip quivering and the way her eyes swam with tears.

"Come here." He lay back down on the pillow, and pulled her into his embrace, so that her head was pillowed onto his shoulder and he could stroke her hair, still faintly damp from her bath. Betty gave a little hiccup of sound, and she was crying quietly, her small hand fisted onto his chest. Daniel didn't know what to say to her. He just stroked her hair, and murmured the little meaningless things you murmur to comfort someone.

When she had cried herself out, and was just sniffing and blotting her tearstained face on the top of the blanket, Daniel finally spoke. "Do you want to tell me?" He asked softly. He felt utterly powerless when faced with her tears. It had been fairly obvious what she was dreaming of- and he was very conscious of the way she had been acting since he had passed out in the hotel room, leaving her frightened and defenseless. Not like _his_ Betty. Closed off, strangely sarcastic. Eyes veering off and staring into space at odd moments. But an equal part of him was petrified to hear the truth; he wasn't sure if he could stand hearing the words come from her mouth. And still yet another part of himself smacked himself upside the head and called him a complete coward. If Betty needed to talk, then he needed to listen. It was as simple as that.

"I… I don't know how to begin exactly."

Her voice, after such a long period of silence startled him a little. Daniel could feel his heart speed up. "Just tell me. Take your time, okay? Do you need a glass of water or something?"

"Nu-huh. I'm too comfortable." Daniel could feel her smile into his chest. His hand moved down her head, to the back of her neck, and settled on her back, rubbing small circles. There was another long silence.

"I didn't lie to you. He didn't rape me."

Daniel's eyes closed with such relief, with such utter gratitude that his body felt weak. It took a lot of willpower to remain silent and let her speak.

"You remember how he shot at you? Well, I heard that sound and suddenly everything seemed so horrible. Real. I felt helpless. And then he made me give you those pills. I heard one of the other guys screaming at him… at Chuckles… later for fucking everything up."

Daniel blinked. "Fucking" was not a word he was used to hearing fall from Betty's lips. His lips twitched. Daniel knew that Betty had been through an emotional winger, but still… hearing that was like hearing Mrs. Hornblatt- his 76-year old third-grade teacher talking about blowjobs or something.

"… and when he came back in the room he was furious. You were passed out on the bed, and I was so afraid, Daniel. I was so afraid that you were dead. They kept talking about overdosing you, and you didn't look like you were breathing you were so deeply out of it, and all I could think was that I had done it. _I_ had given them to you. So he slammed back into the room… and…. And…" She trailed off and took a shaky breath.

Daniel tensed without realizing it.

"He screamed at me that this was all my fault. That he was gonna make me pay for everything going to hell. He even laughed about keeping the door to the hotel room open; that he was all alone with me and nothing was going to stop him having a little fun." Her voice was soft, whispery, the words almost tripping over themselves with her desire to get them out.

"He laughed at me when I tried to run away, and just pulled me back into the room. He threw me on the bed… you had been tossed on it so that you were across the whole top, remember? And my legs were on the floor but my back was… and I fought him. I was screaming and kicking him and trying to claw at his face, at his eyes, or hair…."

Her voice trailed off again. Daniel was now biting his lip so hard he was afraid it would bleed with his need to not speak. He had the strangest impression that she knew he was here, but not in an obvious way. That she could finally tell him what had happened because he wasn't really part of reality- just some amorphous comforting presence in the background. If he spoke, or moved, or did anything- he would jar her out of the spell remembering that awful night had put her in.

"He laughed again. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of his laugh. He was calling me these names… these horrible, filthy names and told me if I didn't shut up he would kill me. He even…" she gave another little hiccupping sob, "…even…. He put the gun in my mouth, Daniel." Her voice lowered to such a soft breath of air that he had to strain to hear her over the thundering of his heart. "He kept saying how much he liked how it looked, moving it in and out and it hurt the inside and the corner of my lip. Then he…. He ripped open my shirt. And I was too scared to fight him anymore Daniel… I was so afraid that the gun would go off. So I j-j-j-ust lay there. And his mouth was moving on me, biting me. He would laugh when I would try to cringe away from him….just kept… laughing…"

She started to cry again. Daniel hung onto her tightly, kissing the top of her head, stroking her back and her hair. Rage was boiling in him. That someone could hurt this sweet-hearted person… that they could take pleasure in her trauma and pain enraged him more than anything else that had happened thus far. His other hand had balled into a fist. He had to actually talk himself through unclenching his hands before his overlong nails mangled the flesh any more than they already had.

"He had ripped my tights and was pushing up my skirt when one of the other men barged in. The big guy. He pulled Chuckles away from me and threw him into a wall. I don't know if I can ever get the feel of his hands off of me. Like spiders, creeping up my legs. And there were more of them just pounding on that guy and taking him out of the room. But he looked back at me once. And I've never…. Never seen someone hate me so much. Hate me…." And even softer almost so much that he couldn't hear what she said, "I don't even know what I did…"

Daniel tilted her head up so that he could look in her eyes. Her gaze skittered away, but he was patient and remained looking down at her, fighting to keep the rage that was still churning his stomach off of his face.

Then he forgot what he was going to say.

Her eyes were wide, and wet with tears. Her face was blotchy in the muted glow of the lamp. Daniel couldn't describe the look on her face; but he wanted to help her chase away the boogyman in the night, to help her get past her abuse, to… erase the horribleness of the past few days.

His lips met hers with the gentlest of touches. He gasped at the feeling of heat that struck him; unexpected in his desire to comfort and protect. He moved his head away, back onto the pillow on which it had been resting. But before he could even start to apologize, she had moved up and captured his lips with her own. Their lips met again, opened. Her tongue came out to flick against his lips and with a moan, he opened wider and kissed her back in earnest.

He ignored the way his mind was shrieking at him that this was not a good idea, ignored the way the bed creaked alarmingly as he flipped over a little so that he could kiss her properly, ignored everything expect the heat of her mouth, the humidity of her breath, the way that every bit of his mouth seemed to tingle as the kiss grew hotter and more passionate. He was greedy and struggling to remain gentle and not scare her. When he felt her nails scrape lightly down over his chest, down over his tummy and dig just a tiny bit between the waistband of his suddenly way-too-tight sweats, Daniel felt what little blood he had left to fuel the higher brain functions move slowly south. He moaned again, moved his lips away from hers, breathing in huge gulps of air to try to steady a reality that was suddenly spinning. His mind, which had been muttering in the background suddenly pushed to the front.

 _This is wrong! She's been assaulted! She doesn't really want this!_  While the other part of his brain screamed back _I don't care! She kissed you! She touched you! This is Betty and you've wanted her for damn near forever and if you screw this up you'll never forgive yourself…._

Daniel shook his head. He felt like one of those cartoon characters with a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.

"Betty…" He groaned again as she licked his neck, nibbling a little bit where his collarbone met his throat.. "Are you sure about… about… this?"

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Friday, 1:28 am**

_"Betty…" He groaned again as she licked his neck, nibbling a little bit where his collarbone met his throat... "Are you sure about…about…this?"_

He could feel Betty freeze against him. Had Daniel been a lesser man, he would have cringed. _God, what are you doing? Shut up! Shut Up!_ His inner voice was frantic. "I just don't think this is a good idea," he babbled out loud. "Not that I don't want to. I always want to. And, don't worry…this isn't a big deal. I just…I just think that you should get some sleep." Daniel wasn't even sure what had come out of his mouth, but it seemed to do the trick; Betty relaxed and minutely edged away from his body.

"O-okay." Her voice was soft, husky from the emotional outburst of a few minutes ago. She turned over so that she was facing against the wall.

Daniel felt immediately cold, bereft and like a complete idiot. He didn't know what to say. Or what to do. She needed sleep. Comfort. Well, not that kind of comfort. It didn't matter how much he wanted to. The thought filled him with panic. Everything about this whole situation seemed so messed up, that adding complications was just not smart. He had to get her out of this craziness. Back to normal. Back to safety.

He gingerly reached out and rubbed a small circle on her back. When she didn't arch away from him or bean him with the pillow, Daniel began the repeat the motion, over and over until he felt her slip back into sleep.

Unfortunately for Daniel, that left him to his thoughts. He could still taste her. His skin still tingled where she had touched him. His heart still pounded, body still tensed with desire. He couldn't say how long he lay there besides Betty, rubbing her back and thinking. Eventually, he blew out the hurricane lamp, but stared up towards the ceiling with his jaw clenched, thoughts running in circles. He was selfish. No, he was doing the right thing. No…he should never have let it get so far. It was sick that he still wanted her. It was just a kiss. It wasn't just a kiss- it was a tiny glimpse of what his life could be… should be….

It was a long time before he slept.

* * *

 

**Sometime Later….**

 

Did they think he was stupid? That he couldn't follow a trail?

After last night, he had gone back near the van to sleep. He was smart enough to be cautious, and had heard the other people in the woods before they had heard him. His blood was still thrumming in his veins from the kill. Stupid. Did Andy really think that friendship would have prevented him from taking what was his? Stupid oaf, always thinking that friendship would tie them together. Well it had. Oh, yes…it had. Right until he pulled that trigger. The shallow grave was fitting. Let the animals have him. Or, what was left of him.

Going back towards the van had seemed like a brilliant plan, but seeing the beam of the flashlight in the woods ahead of him made him doubt himself for a moment. It was only a moment, but it was enough for the rage to take over. He had crept up behind one of the people, the glint of long blond hair visible in the back glow of the light. The yellow FBI indication on the back of her jacket reflected sharply. A woman. The man's lip curled in a sneer. They sent a woman to find him? It was ridiculously easy to creep up behind her and slit her throat. He let her still-warm body slide down his onto the forest floor, muffling the dull thud with his own. A cold smile flashed over his thin lips. The man shut off the flashlight she carried and pocketed her weapon. Laughable. She looked like she was about twenty. Pretty. She hadn't even made a sound.

He had made his way away from his fresh kill, walking like a cat. It was simplistic to cross the road and disappear into the woods on the other side of the road. He would have to abandon his vehicle, of course. That would be stupid, and if he was anything it wasn't stupid. It had taken him most of the evening to make his way to the small village and steal another car. He drove away, knowing that the FBI would be looking for anything out of the ordinary. He even smiled and talked his way through a checkpoint. Idiots.

He slept in his stolen car. Around noon, he stashed the vehicle, and made his way on foot back to roughly where the van was. He had to move stealthily because of the extra police and FBI around, but eventually picked up Meade's trail. He would find him. Oh, yes. He would. And when he did, that little bitch he was with would pay dearly for costing him so much, for fucking everything up…. It wouldn't be slow. Or painless. He snapped the knife open and shut, loving the murderous, cold sound. He would take special care to make sure she was aware of every single, separate thing he was going to do to her.

The man's smile widened. He wasn't even aware that he was emitting a high-pitched giggle as he walked though the woods.

* * *

 

**Sometime even later…**

 

Claire Meade stood on the roof of the Meade building, the cool wind whipping her hair and scarf around her face. It came free of her neck, and the Hèrmés chiffon drifted slowly in the wind, ghosting out down onto the City. Her wind-chapped hands gripped the rail as she looked down at the bustling city below her. They wanted to shake. Claire gripped the frigid metal harder, forcing them into steady compliance. The small punishment felt good … in a perverse sort of way. This was what she deserved.

She heard the step behind her, but didn't whirl. She knew who it would be.

"Claire?" His soft voice was hesitant, but strong. Caring.

Claire's eyes drifted shut for just a moment, craving, desperately wanting to borrow some of the strength and compassion she heard in that one syllable.

"Yes. Don't worry Ignacio; I haven't jumped. As you might have noticed." Her voice was cold and cruelly sarcastic. She didn't mean for it to be, especially not to him. But this desire to lash out at other people was keeping her sane. It was petty of course, but she relished in each recoil of surprise her words brought…as if for one moment they could feel as lost and confused as she did.

Otherwise the guilt would overcome her.

She turned her body just enough that there was no way that the dim roof lighting could reflect off the tears on her cheeks.

_My fault. Mine. Once again, my children have to pay the price for my own failures._

Alexis and Daniel had both suffered as children when their mother couldn't reciprocate their childish love- so wrapped up was she in her hate. Hate of Bradford, hate of Fey…hate of herself. The alcohol was a comfort- a way to dull the pain of her daily life. And dull it she had. Dulled it to the point that there were whole chunks of years….Periods of her life that she couldn't remember.

And God… _ohGod,_ how she wanted that oblivion now. The bite of the alcohol. The warm shock as it travelled to her stomach. She shook with the desire. Refusing to give in was another way to punish herself for her failings. If she hadn't been such a …a…pushover… such a complete wimp then she could have told Bradford where he could go stick his adulterant ways, taken her boys and left him. She wasn't an idiot. She had skills. She could have done something with her life, instead of being this pathetic wreck of a human being.

But no one left Bradford Meade, unless they did so on his terms. Hell, Alexis had had to stage her own death to get away from him.

"Claire…" The whispered voice brought her back to now. The roof. Daniel missing. Possibly…. She couldn't think the actual word. It would kill her. "The agent was just trying to prepare us. It's not …certain." His voice broke.

The thought that he was up here trying to comfort her was laughable. How could he? How could he be so kind? His own daughter was….was….

"Mrs. Meade? Mr. Suarez? We have some information for you. Please sit down." She and Ignacio had flicked glances at each other, the flash of panic mirrored in both of their gazes.

"There is no good way to say this. About two hours ago, the FBI was alerted to a passerby call-in of a vehicle accident. Both the driver and the passenger of the cargo van were pronounced dead at the scene. DNA matching both Mr. Meade and Miss Suarez were found in the back of the van."

The cacophony of sound in the small room was devastating.

"What does- what is-does that mean—what is DNA evidence?" Ignacio spoke haltingly.

The agent, used to telling grieving parents horrifying news, tried to smile kindly. "Blood evidence, sir. There was blood in the back of the van."

Claire could feel her heart stop. Simply stop as she thought, 'no…not again. Not Daniel. NOT DANIEL.' she had jerked her hand out of Ignacio's grip and brought her fingertips to her cheeks. The two men droned on… Claire jumped up, whirled on her heel and had ran.

Claire felt something warm across her shoulders. His jacket. Her head bowed before she could stop the movement. Ignacio didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. He just stood next to her. Their shoulders brushed very slightly. The two parents looked down onto the bustling activity, keeping a silent vigil for their children on the busy city below.

* * *

 

**Friday, 4:30 pm**

Daniel woke up all at once with his heart pounding in his chest. He had the remnants of a nightmare, but they drifted away as wakefulness overtook his sleeping brain. He was cuddled up against Betty, spooned so that here wasn't an inch of space between their two bodies. She was also sleeping on his arm, which was numb and tingly. Daniel inched back away from her as slowly as he could so that he wouldn't wake her up. He moved his arm in the same way and after about five minutes managed to inch gingerly out of bed. He stood up and stretched wincing as the vertebra in his back popped- sounding like gunshots in the still, semi-dark room.

He grabbed the radio and went into the bathroom. There wasn't much to do, and he had to think. Sitting in a tub of steaming water sounded like a freaking terrific way to accomplish both of those things.

Daniel shut the door and started the tub. Daniel eased into the already piping-hot water and turned on the little radio that had been in with the cabin owner's belonging, setting it on the side of the tub near the tiny sliver of soap.

He held his breath and ducked his head down into the tub, enjoying the muffled quiet as the water filled his ears. Daniel could hear the plink…plink…plink… as the old-fashioned faucet dripped into the water. He sighed and laughed at himself. He was being an idiot. That of course wasn't new. He was an idiot pretty frequently. He sat there for a moment, letting his mind wander, relaxing with his bath. When he ran out of air, Daniel raised his head up out of the water and shook the water out of his hair and face.

_Be my baby comes on, and were movin' in time..._

_And the heat from your touch makes me feel..._

_Like I'm losing my mind…_

Daniel grinned. He loved this song. He danced to it at his 6th grade social with Mandy Bockenhurst. Oh, and Cindy Gohelm. And Janet Smythe. Daniel's grin turned wider. He settled his head against the back of the tub and mouthed the rest of the lyrics:

Daniel moved his arms out of the water, resting them against the claw-footed edges of the tub. He found himself singing along as he tapped the palm of his left hand against the cold porcelain of the tub.

_"Turn the radio up for that sweet sound_

_Hold me close never let me go_

_Keep this feelin' alive_

_Make me lose control._

_Ba-aaaa beeeeee"_

He ducked his head under the water again and started to reach around for the shampoo. He lathered his hair up, somewhat glad that Betty had used most of it up last night. There really wasn't all that much left. He squeezed the bottle, getting mostly air and the _tbbbbbbt_ sounds. He sat back against the back of the tub again and flicked the water off his fingers in order to change the tiny radio's station to something else.

"—Meade, heir to the Meade Publications empire. His assistant, Billy Suarez was also victim to this most heinous crime."

Daniel rolled his eyes. Billy? Seriously? How hard was it to get her name straight, for Pete's sake? _Billy?_

"…press conference is scheduled for tomorrow. Since the FBI's statement and confirmation of blood evidence…."

Blood evidence? Wait….

"Ms. (The announcer pronounced it Mizzzzzzzz) Meade could not be reached for comment on the possible demise of her youngest child. Alexis Meade, sister and former CEO of Meade publications also could not be reached for comment. Be sure to tune in at 5:30 for our coverage of the Meade press conference where Wilhelmina Slater is expected to speak. In other news…"

Daniel sat there for a moment, stunned. Suds from the shampoo ran into his eyes. He swore and dunked his head under the water. Enough screwing around. They had to get the hell out of here.

* * *

 

Betty rolled over onto her back as Daniel left the bed. She had been lying there, keeping her breathing even, thoughts blessedly blank. Except for one thing repeating in her head, over and over. "I just don't think this is a good idea," "Not that I don't want to. I always want to. And, don't worry… this isn't a big deal. I just… I just think that you should get some sleep."

I always want to.

It's no big deal.

I always want to…

It's no big deal.

_It's no big deal._

Why had she done that? How stupid was she? He had comforted her after she cried all over him, then she had to go too far. Push too much. So… _stupid._

It's no big deal, indeed. Only it was.

A big deal to her. Kissing him had just felt right. The right moment, the right time… But he had been horrified. Pulled away, tried to cover the awkward moment up. Betty had been too stunned at her own need- her own _want_ to do much more than just lay passively there beside him, trying not to flinch every time he rubbed a circle on her back. He was very sweet, and she had practically attacked him. _No big deal_. No big deal at all. She could handle this.

Betty turned over on the bed, into the warm spot left by Daniel as he shut the door as quietly as he could. She hugged his pillow to her, burying her face in the softness. She heard the water in the tub, and sighed.

This was stupid. Okay, so Daniel wasn't into her. He could join the legions of other men who felt the same way… But she wasn't going to just cry here on the bed. She had made a fool of herself. When did she not make a fool of herself over a man? There were things around the cabin that she could do.

So, stuffing any lingering heartache down to somewhere dark and deep, she rolled off the bed and straightened the covers. She heard Daniel singing in the bathroom, and had to bite back a grin. He sounded like a dying goose. Perhaps a dying goose that tried to mate with a duck. Her she snickered quietly to herself and went into the kitchen. Okay, if Daniel had managed to make stew for them last night (yesterday? The day before? She really didn't know how long she had slept.), then she could manage to make them something to eat. She was starving. Then perhaps they could get out of here.

In the kitchen, she stumbled over a red plastic container. It was on the floor underneath the shelf with the batteries, but had been sticking out just enough that when her foot hit it, the contents sloshed a little. She flipped on the light switch and acclimated herself to the Spartan kitchen. Reading the directions on the propane stove, Betty managed to get the fire up enough that she could cook something. She found two cans of Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup and a few cans of something called hash. Hash? Betty thought for a moment, frowning over the picture. Well. It looked like some kind of beef with potatoes in it. But wasn't hash something that you smoked? She remembered that Hilda and Santos had gotten into a lot of trouble by smoking hash at a concert. She had been too sleepy after studying for a final, but her father's wrath had been somewhat awesome in its intensity.

Well, she was adventurous, right? The directions just said that she had to warm it up. And surely that would be more filling than soup? Giving the pan from yesterday a quick wash, she fried up the two cans of hash and brought everything out to the main room. She was just sticking the spoon into the pan when Daniel opened the door of the bathroom. . He stood there in the too-tight sweatpants, water dripping down his chest, looking at the food with a strange look on his face, threadbare towel draped over his shoulders.

"That smells good." His voice was subdued. She could see that his eyes were red, and her brows knitted with concern.

Betty was feeling a little bit nervous at the way her heartbeat was thundering at the sight of him. Really, he could be doing one of the covers for one of the magazines. He was so confident and comfortable with how he looked. No wonder women would stand three deep in order to get his number.

"I thought you might be hungry." She was proud that her voice only shook a little. And that her tongue didn't roll out of her mouth and down her chin.

"Yeah, thanks." He sat down, throwing the towel on the bed.

They were quiet as they ate the food. Betty cast around for something to break the silence. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly- but strange. "So, you had the radio. I heard you… um…singing?"

Daniel made a strange sound- like someone laughing and choking on corned beef hash. "Uh…yes…singing."

"In some cultures, those sounds would be considered a mating call. Or possibly a deadly insult." Betty said brightly.

Daniel's cheeks turned faintly pink. He cleared his throat. "Um. Hello. Pot? Kettle?"

Betty smiled at him, and all at once any lingering weirdness was gone. He was just her friend Daniel.

Daniel was grateful for the teasing. He was nervous about what he had to tell her- worried about how she would take it. They were relatively safe here in this cabin. Only…they really weren't.

They finished their food in compatible silence and went into the kitchen together to wash up. Betty flopped down on the bed when they were finished, and Daniel sat down in the chair.

"Ohhh. I'm so tired. I feel like I could sleep for weeks." Betty stretched like a cat.

Daniel averted his eyes from the small strip of skin that peeked out from the bottom of her t-shirt. He suddenly felt the need to put on more clothes. It only took a few steps, and he was back and struggling into his own shirt. Well, this was as good of a time as any. "Hey- Betty?" It came out a little muffled as he pushed his head through the collar of the cloth.

"Yeah?" She laid there, arms spread like she was getting ready to make a snow angel.

"We really need to get out of here. I heard on the radio- they think…." It was almost too horrible to say. "They found blood in the van. And, they think we're….well, that we aren't going to come back."

Betty sat straight up, eyes wide. "They can't think that. You're… well. You're you! They probably have half the FBI looking for you. The CIA! The National Guard! _Rambo!"_

Daniel had to grin. "Rambo? I think he's retired."

Betty rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean…and…Ohgod…if they're reporting that on the news then my dad and Hilda and…oh, Daniel, your poor mother!"

He nodded miserably. "I know. I was thinking about it. I'm thinking that lake is our best bet. We need to use the boat and…well there has to be someone around. Some other vacationers, a filling station for the boaters… anything! We just have to find it."

Betty got up off of the bed. "The gas can! I tripped over it earlier. Wasn't there a… a boat outside?" Her voice was thin with excitement.

Daniel stood there staring at her, dumbfounded. His brain had been so exhausted that he didn't even remember it until she just mentioned it. The lake, sure. But not the boat. Then he turned on one heel and ran outside the kitchen door, Betty hard on his heels.

They stumbled out of the door. The boat was under a tarp, just like it had been last night. Betty noticed that it was getting dark out. Shadows looked weird in the twilight. Daniel yanked on the blue tarp and they both stared at what it revealed a little dumbstruck. It was a light boat- nothing very fancy. It had a small motor on the back. It could seat maybe three people comfortably.

"Oh… Daniel" She breathed it like a caress. They both moved to the boat and flipped it over using the pulley and board for the boat to slide into the water. Daniel bit his lip. If the motor didn't start, then he might cry. He squatted down and made sure that it was tied to the small informal dock post. Daniel pulled on the small cord and held his breath, letting it out in a rather crazy-sounding giggle when the motor burst into life.

Oh god. They were going to get out of here.

He shut it off, and looked over at Betty, fiercely. He wanted to kiss her, to toss her up in the air and swing her around in a circle. For a moment, he was afraid the need on his face was too intense. A couple of unidentifiable emotions flitted over her face. He quickly cleared his throat and stood up.

"Come on. Let's get what we can together."

He pulled the boat up onto the bank just to be safe. It would be just his luck to have the damn thing float away. Finally. He was going to make it up to her. He was going to get her out of this.

It didn't take them long. He stuffed the radio and some food into the black duffle bag. Betty insisted on him leaving the cabin owner a note. He did so, thanking them profusely and basically promising to refurbish the entire cabin with whatever they wanted. He left his office and cell numbers. Daniel was so excited and anxious to get going that he could hardly stand still. Betty grabbed the gas can, and sloshed it experimentally.

"Enough to get us across the lake, anyway," Betty grinned. They made sure everything was shut off, and left the cabin, shutting the door behind them.

They walked over to the boat and pushed it back into the water. Daniel helped Betty into the boat, setting the duffel and the gas can besides her. She looked back at him, her eyes shining, face lit up with joy. "Oh, Daniel….We're going to make it. We're going to get out of this!"

Daniel smiled back and pulled the cord. The sound of the outboard was startling in the evening air. Daniel lifted up the rope that tied the boat to the post and looked up, to take a quick peek at Betty's face and was startled to see the happiness on her face drain away like water down a sink, leaving her complexion almost grey in the dwindling evening light. She was staring over his shoulder at something in the woods.

"No… you're really not." There was a dry, evil sounding laugh. It sounded like something out of a bad movie.

Daniel turned, but he was too slow. Chuckles stood there, holding the gun out-pointed directly at Betty's chest.

Later, Daniel wouldn't be able to remember what had happened. He could just see the gun. It was as though a spotlight was on it, shining down. His vision was tunneled. Things happened- disjointed from everything else. He heard Betty's scream. Chuckles said something low, furious… something about Betty. Daniel stood up fully to block her body with his, heard the sound that haunted his nightmares…. The _zzzzzt! zzzzzt!_ of the weapon discharging. The feeling of agony as something slammed into his chest.

Then a strange buzzing noise… and nothing.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Betty's heart almost stopped. She saw the gun, heard Chuckles yell something. What he said didn't register. Betty could just see his lips twisting and writhing cruelly into filth. The gun looked enormous as he raised it. She saw Daniel look up at her, then spring in front of where she crouched stupidly in the boat.

It was strange, really. She didn't have time to speak or scream. She couldn't cry out a warning. But she could still see each, separate movement as it happened like flipping through a stack of pictures. She saw the cold glint in Chuckles' eyes. She saw his trigger finger tighten. She heard two sickening thuds; each one as loud as an ambulance siren blaring down Broadway in the stillness of the woods.

Daniel rocked backwards from the impact of the bullet. She didn't think; just reacted. Betty heard a horrible moan (her mind shied away from who it was and why he was moaning –she couldn't think about that yet.) and yanked hard on Daniel's t-shirt- ripping it up to his armpits, causing him to fall back onto his back in the boat. She wasn't seated all the way, and the momentum from his fall caused her to also fall back. Her foot kicked something on the outboard as she overbalanced, and they sped up. The gas can fell overboard. The boat rocked horrifically, letting in an icy deluge of water in over the sides until she was able to find her center of balance and keep the boat from capsizing.

Then everything sped up as though someone had hit fast forward.

She caught one last glance of the shore as Chuckles ran forward shrieking curses and swearing. She heard a _ping!_ as a bullet ricocheted off the top metal part of the motor. Betty realized that she was praying, almost sobbing the words watching as the little boat sped them away from the insane man on the shore. Part of her mind noticed each, separate splash as he shot at them, the bullets hitting the water next to her, and eventually behind them as the boat continued to move away. Part of her mind gibbered in terror at the thought that Daniel had been shot. He wasn't moving, other than the guttural groan he gave when she pulled him down on top of her. Yet another part of her mind shrieked in terror, shying away from everything that had happened in the last few minutes. But the strong part of her mind (who kinda sounded a little like Hilda now that she thought of it) was telling her that she had to keep moving, get Daniel help, and to keep her head on straight. She could always fall apart later.

She slid slowly out from under Daniel, trying to situate him onto his back as comfortably as she could. His chest was sticky with blood. Betty sat with her knee on the wound, applying pressure as best she could. God. What If there was a bigger hole in his back? What if she was pushing the bullet into him somehow? But what could she do…. It was too dark for any sort of real first aid- even if she could see to do so.

The boat was small enough that Betty managed to get her hand on the motor to sort of control where they were going without moving too far from Daniel. Really, she just had to shift her weight a little. It was almost full dark now, and she could see lights glinting across the lake. It was impossible to judge the distance without her glasses. The air as the boat cut through the water of the lake was frigid, causing her to shiver. She felt like she had been cold for weeks. Betty tried to hunch down so that she was just peeking over the edge of the boat- but it was too shallow to really do it properly. At least Daniel was out of the wind, though.

"Hang in there, Daniel. I see some lights ahead." She whispered it, trying to give the unconscious man some comfort. Strangely, her own words seemed to make her feel better. She squinted a little and was able to make the lights out more distinctly.

Then several things happened at once.

The little motor sputtered and died.

Daniel cried out as the boat lurched to a stop, causing Betty to lose her balance again and fall to the left of the little bench. She just barely saved herself from flying overboard.

And the cabin exploded.

From behind her a huge beacon of light lit up the sky. She could hear a WOOOOOSH and was still close enough to feel the heat as the fire greedily climbed up the wooden walls. She could see a lone figure outlined against the orange blaze, and saw him walk off into the woods. She sat back for a moment, dumbfounded, watching it burn. Betty was dimly aware that she wasn't cold, that sweat was beading up on her forehead.

"Beh-ty?" The feeble croak brought her attention from the exploding cabin of doom to the man bleeding in the bottom of the boat. She put her hand to his cheek, but he had already passed out again.

Her ears were ringing from the pent up force of the explosion, but she thought she heard a… siren?

Wait. That _was_ a siren. Where there were sirens, there were… people!

Betty looked around, now able to make out shapes moving on the lake. Boat-shaped shapes. One barreled by her on its way to the cabin. There were red flashing lights illuminating the darkness.

"HEY!" Betty waved her arms, remembering just in time not to jump up and capsize the small watercraft. She bellowed like only a Jackson Heights girl could. The boat didn't stop, but continued on its way. Her over-stimulated brain recognized that was a mobile fire unit- and that there were firefighters struggling into coats and other gear.

She waved her arms again as she heard the horn behind her. A spotlight shone on the small boat so brightly that she had to avert her eyes a little.

"HEY! Help! You have to help us, he's been shot!" She screamed it so loudly that she felt her voice crack.

Then a bunch of confusing images- her brain's reaction to the stress: people grabbing her arms and hauling her up into the boat; the sight of Daniel's bloody body as he was lifted up to safety; babbled demands and questions: the sight of the police officer snapping something into a cell phone, then blissful nothingness.

* * *

 

 

Betty came to once, when they tried to separate her from Daniel. Daniel was being moved off of the boat and onto a chopper. She held tightly to his hand and simply refused to budge unless they took her with him. She tried to stay awake on the helicopter ride, watching from her spot as what looked like four different people worked on Daniel's wound. There was a policewoman who kept trying to ask her questions, questions that she couldn't answer. She just remembered nodding when she was asked if that was Daniel Meade. Then asking questions of her own: "Was he going to live? Did they catch the man that did this? Was Daniel going to be…". Her voice getting higher-pitched and more hysterical as she sat there, watching him, unable to help. The woman pushing firmly on her shoulders so that she would remain seated. Then a small prick on the inside of her arm, and nothing.

 

* * *

 

**Saturday, 9:43 pm**

Claire was _furious._ There were so many people pressing up against the limo's side that she couldn't open the door. Flashbulbs popped all around the tinted windows- still bright through the double tinting. She sat on one side of the back seat, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Honestly. Can't you do something?" She snapped at the driver.

Hilda, Ignacio, and Justin were all huddled together on the other side of the back area, looking scared and overwhelmed.

"Yes, Ma'am. The police are pushing them back right now. I can't move the car- they've completely surrounded you."

Claire muttered darkly under her breath. It sounded suspiciously like _So then run them over_. Justin's lips twitched, but he remained starring down at his knees.

Fairly soon (although each minute seemed like ages to the people in the back of the limo) there were some sirens and the sound of whistles being blown. They could see the backs of the officers pushed up against the windows of the car. Slowly they pushed the reporters away, and made a path for the limo to pull around the street and through the valet area. Once on hospital property, the reporters weren't legally allowed to bombard the patients or visitors. Legally, that didn't mean that there wouldn't be a few sneaking in of course.

She had gotten the call about 45 minutes ago. Daniel and Betty were on their way via helicopter to the hospital. Claire had almost dropped the phone off of the roof. She and Ignacio had been out there again, partially to get away from all the sympathetic glances and well-wishers, and partially to steal a kip from the flask of whisky she had kept near her since breaking down at the Suarez's home. Claire had gone so pale that Ignacio had gripped her arm hard enough that she would have a bruise there.

His face had been horrible, expecting the worst.

"They- they found them." She had whispered it, stunned. Wanting to scream and cry and laugh all at the same time. They had run down the stairs to the elevator, jubilant. Claire had been waiting in the front of the Meade Building, waiting on Hilda and Justin to arrive so they could go when the woman from the hospital had called her cell number. She was only half listening to her babble on about the media only being on site if there was permission given. Claire had snapped something about the Meade wing of the institution and that there had better not be one reporter present, and hand ended the call.

Twenty-two minutes later they were at the hospital. It was so frustrating, sitting in the car. They heard the helicopter land, and Claire had closed her eyes.

She wasn't a praying woman. She didn't particularly feel close with God, or think he had much to do with her everyday life. But the disembodied voice on the phone had refused to give her any information on Daniel and Betty's condition. Only that one was being rushed into surgery. The voice hadn't known which one. Please. Please. Not Daniel. Not her baby. Then she felt even guiltier, because if Daniel were safe then Betty would be hurt…and that would be just as horrible. But she couldn't help how her brain thought. Betty was very sweet. She was probably one of the kindest, most loving people she knew. But she wasn't Claire's daughter. But…

"-Meade?"

Claire looked up at the man holding open the hospital door. Her mind had been wandering. She flicked a guilty look towards Ignacio- ashamed of where her thoughts had taken her.

"Yes. Yes, I'm coming." She slid across the seat, and offered her hand to the chauffeur who helped her out of the vehicle. God, she wanted a drink. Just one. The familiar feeling of shame at her selfishness and need washed over her.

Claire's lips trembled as she stood looking at the door. Ignacio and the rest of his family were already inside. It was as though once she went inside there would be no more wondering or hand-wringing…. But she would know. For certain. And have to face the facts- whether it was good news or bad. Taking that first step towards the door was one of the most daunting tasks of her life. She literally had to force herself to move her foot.

"Ms. Meade, this way. We have some information for you." The man looked FBI, but she couldn't tell. All those governmental types looked the same. They led her into a room filled with doctors and people in suits, and of course the Suarezes. The room was very comfortable, with reclining chairs, a plasma television, bookshelf and small kitchenette in the corner. She sat near Justin and looked at the man speaking.

"Here's what we know." He looked over at Justin, and then at Hilda. "Ma'am, some of this information might be a little graphic. Are you sure you want him privy to it?" Justin looked at his mom. She looked back and nodded once. The man's lips moved in some way that was too professional to be called a smile. "They're both alive." Claire felt weak.

"Miss Suarez seems to be suffering from shock and trauma. Mental we think. She had to be heavily sedated, and we'll know more when the tests come back."

He cleared his throat. The man's dark eyes flicked over to a man in scrubs and a white lab coat, who stepped forward.

Claire's throat tightened.

The man's voice was very professional. "Mr. Meade has been shot at a fairly close range. Once in the shoulder, and once in the…well, the right lung. He's in surgery right now. It's touch and go, ma'am. I'm sorry to tell you that."

Claire felt Justin's hand creep into hers. She heard the rest as if he was speaking from a long distance away.

"We don't know what happened. Miss Suarez is showing bruises that..well. It's possibly that she was assaulted. Do you know if Mr. Meade has ever displayed any violent tendencies?" It was the FBI man again. The change of subject didn't really register.

"Violence?" She repeated it somewhat stupidly.

Hilda stared at Claire and snapped her gaze to the investigator. "Wait. You can't be thinking that _Daniel_ would have hurt Betty?"

"Ma'am. I'm not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation."

"Well, then you're an idiot. There is no way that Daniel Meade would ever touch one hair on Betty's head."

"With all due respect," here his voice showed that there wasn't much respect given to the Latina woman, "You can't possibly know what someone would do in a situation like that. All we know is that Miss Suarez was covered in his blood. There was some sort of explos—". The man trailed off as his cell phone chirped. He turned on his heel and left.

The doctor gave them a sympathetic look. "As soon as we have some information, um, medical information I mean, we will let you know. In the meantime, this room is secure from the media. We have an officer stationed outside to ensure your privacy. Please help yourself to anything you need."

He left the room. The small _click_ as the door shut sounded very loud in the small space.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Sunday, 12:06 pm.**

"So they think that she blew it up?" The voice sounded shocked.

"Well, you can never trust the quiet ones. But if you ask me, it sounds like she had a good reason. Any man that would hit a woman deserves what's coming to him, that's all I have to say. Who hasn't felt like torching a building after dealing with a… man? That's all I'm gonna say." The older voice was pure Brooklyn. It sounded sage and wise.

"Poor thing…." The first voice trailed off. "Oh, look. I think she's coming around. Like, I'm surprised to see that so quickly. Night shift gave her enough to knock out a horse."

Betty felt a warm hand on her forehead. She was absolutely freezing. She scrunched up her eyebrows. And oh. Oh… god. She had such a headache.

"Uuuhh." She gave a little moan. It sounded dry and felt sandpapery against her throat.

"Oh, honey. Do you need some water? Here… tilt up your head." The first voice, Betty saw when she opened her eyes, belonged to a young nurse… maybe twenty or so… leaning over her bed with a concerned look on her face.

Betty opened her mouth and sipped gratefully at the straw the woman put in front of her lips. Her lips felt cracked and swollen. The water was room temperature, but was cool and refreshing to her overheated mouth and throat.

So she was in a hospital then. Wait….

"Da- Daniel?" She had to try twice to get the word out of her throat. She saw the nurse's expression change from sympathy to a professional, blank, closed-off look. Betty's thoughts were too scattered to think of why that would be.

"Where am I? What's happening?" She looked up at the nurse, blinking a few times to try and keep her in focus. Her vision was blurry, and the act of blinking sharply seemed to make her head hurt even more. "Please?"

The nurse smiled a professional looking smile that showed a few too many teeth. She walked over to a cart near the middle of the room and rummaged for something. "Now don't you worry. Here. Take this, and everything will be okay." She walked back over to the bed, and did something out of Betty's line of sight with the IV bag and Betty felt like she was being draped in a warm, wet blanket.

"No… wait… what about Daniel? Is he okay? And my fam…" She trailed off into unconsciousness almost immediately.

The nurse looked down at her, face changing into a more pitying expression.

The second time Betty woke up, there was no one in the room.

"Doctors Hilderbrand, Connish, and Jasmine room IC107. Stat!" The voice on the outside loudspeaker was muted, but loud enough that Betty could hear the words fairly faintly.

She heard the thundering of squeaky shoes belonging to several people as they ran by her door. Her headache had reduced to less than epic proportions and she was able to look around her room. She wanted to know two things. 1- What the hell had happened to her, and 2-Where was Daniel and her family? She was, frankly, shocked that her sister nephew and Papi weren't huddled around her bed. There wasn't so much as a flower or get well card in the small space.

Well, not for long.

Betty tried to sit up, and when that was successful (albeit slow) she swung her feet onto the cold floor. Holding the back of her hospital gown closed with one hand, and using the IV pole as more of a cane, she was able to haul herself up. She took stock. Not too bad. Some aches, some bruises and what felt like a sprained ankle? It was taped up, anyway.

The room was sparse- just a tiny restroom and miniscule shelf for her belongings. Both were empty. She squinted- unsure if the blurred vision was from not having her glasses, or from some kind of head injury- but she could see well enough to stick her head out of the room's door. Whatever was going on in IC107 must be pretty major. There most of the staff were crammed into the room. Betty looked left and right again, and limped-wheeled herself out of the room. No one seemed to notice. There was a small mobile station outside of her door. She wrestled with a moment of conscience before making her slow way over to it. Whoever had last logged in seemed to be a big fan of Chihuahuas, because there had to be eight of them all huddled around a stuffed bear (one of the dogs was caught in the process of lifting his leg) in different sweaters set as the user's desktop wallpaper.

Betty leaned over and squinted at the clock. 3:30 in the morning. Well, that explained a lot. Betty's file was up, but she barely glanced at it before clicking on the icon labeled 'mainframe'. She typed in the information as quickly as she could, feeling like a thief in the night.

_Daniel Meade, multiple gunshots, Rm 4-301- PRIVATE_

Seeing that caused Betty's eyes to squeeze shut. _Oh, Daniel._ She exited out of the system and leaving the computer just like she found it, and looked around the floor for an elevator. If this was like most hospitals, then she was in IC- Intensive Care- and Daniel was quite likely in a private room with private doctors. She knew where he was; she just had to get there.

Right then. Nooo problem. Able to leap small buildings in a single bound, move up several hospital floors with a squeaky wheel on her IV pole, and do all of that without being caught by a nurse.

Getting a better grip on the rather drafty gown, and tightening her hand on the IV pole, she tried to fix her face into something less like she was doing something wrong, and more like she was on her way to somewhere that she was supposed to be.

She was rather shocked that no one stopped her as she wheeled into the elevator. Everything went extremely smoothly until she got to Daniel's floor and saw the security guard sitting in a chair near room 301. She faltered for a moment, all of the sudden feeling each one of her aches and pains. She felt both dizzy and nauseous. Could they _arrest_ you for leaving your hospital bed?

Betty stood there rather stupidly as the man sat there. It actually took her a minute through her blurry vision to realize that he hadn't moved in all the time she rolled up. He was sprawled with his legs out in front of him and his hat down over his eyes.

Could she do it?

Indeed she could. Betty wheeled as slowly as she could over towards Daniel's door, giving the guard's legs a wide berth. She stopped every few seconds or so to check to see if the guard twitched. A soft snore was her only response. She reached out and pulled the handle down, pushing a little with her body. It hurt her ankle to put sudden pressure on it, and her back screamed at her as she held the heavy door open so that it wouldn't bang the legs of her IV pole. She had to let go of the gown (naturally it draped open) which was the least of her worries. _If the guard happens to wake up though, he would sure be distracted!_ She thought to herself, grinning and biting her bottom lip as she managed to get inside. Finally she got everything resituated, holding the door so that it closed without a sound.

She was stood there for a moment, facing the door, almost afraid to turn around and see Daniel on the bed. A quick flash of images bombarded her- Daniel laughing when they found the boat- the look on his face when he threw himself in front of her- the feel of holding him while he bled in her arms. Her stomach rolled. Betty had to rest her head against the door frame for a moment while she pressed her hand against her tummy to try and control the way it was suddenly jumping around.

 _What a coward. He saved your life, and you're afraid even to look at him._ It was just that… by looking at him… that made everything real somehow. More brightly colored instead of some tiny detail she could ignore.

Betty sighed.

She had to use her pole for traction as she turned around and stared at the injured man on the bed. Her ankle was throbbing horribly, and the muscle in her back that she had used when she threw up her arms to catch the door ached.

Betty made her slow way up to the bed.

He looked somewhat like a child. The private room's bed was enormous- easily a Full size. Instead of hospital issue sheets , blankets, and pillows, the materials looked to be closer to silk and high-end cotton. Betty slowly reached out her hand and ghosted her fingers over the sheets. The roughness of her fingers got caught on the fine fabric. She stopped her hand right by Daniel's fingers. She darted a quick glance up at his face and froze. She had very carefully avoided actually looking at him during the entire time she had been in the room. It was a shock to see his blue gaze staring steadily at her through half-closed eyelids. Without breaking eye contact, she moved her hand so that it was covering his.

Daniel's fingers curled around hers.

He opened his mouth a little and tried to lick his lips. There was an untouched glass of water on the night stand near the lamp. All the ice had melted, leaving a discernable circle where the condensation had dripped down onto the glass. Betty could have untangled her fingers from Daniel's to reach over and get the glass for him, but instead she reached across with her left hand and brought the glass over to him. He winced as he sat up, and stretched his neck out for the straw. He took a long drink, and then opened his mouth again.

"You're… okay?"

Betty nodded. There was some emotion that flitted across Daniel's face, but it was gone too quickly for Betty to catch it.

"Stay." His eyes shut and he winced in pain.

Daniel's meaning was clear however, when he tightened his grip on her hand. He tugged just a little. " _Stay_." He emphasized his voice rough and scratchy. Betty took a step forward, still staring. His bed looked so incredibly comfortable, his gaze so filled with pain and determination that she took another step forward before she thought about it.

She heard Daniel hiss in pain as he moved backwards enough that she could climb into the oversized hospital bed besides him. Almost without thinking, she pulled the sheet back up over her gown. Her brown eyes met his blue ones as she arranged herself on his pillow.

They both fell back asleep, hands still joined under the covers.

Daniel awoke once and wanted to scream in pain. He had the sensation of moving, of voices babbling and confused chaos. His shoulder was not happy with any movement. It was a struggle to breathe. Every labored breath he took scared him. He could hear how wet it sounded, and knew that that couldn't be a good thing.

He was so scared.

Then someone was placing a mask over his face and Daniel was drifting off. He had time for just one fully cognizant thought- _What if I don't wake up?_ -before he completely lost track of who and where he was.

A dream woke him.

He was wondering down a long corridor. There was nothing in the hallway but ornate silver doors lined down the corridor. A greenish light was at the top of each door, casting strange shadows around. As Daniel began to walk down the hallway each door would open. A woman would stand there, always beautiful and perfect on the surface. They ere dressed in many different outfits and styles. Daniel recognized most of them as past MODE covers or spreads. Their faces were blurred though. He couldn't see who any of the women were. And tired. He was so tired… but he couldn't go back. Only forward in this endless parade of faceless women…

He was being shot over and over- while Chuckles' laugh echoed through the woods. Betty's scream of shock and horror seemed to repeat on an endless loop. Betty's warm brown eyes turned cold as they seemed to accuse him. It was his fault. He didn't save her. He left her at that madman's mercy….

He heard a click and a clanking sound, and it was so out of place in the silence of the room that he struggled to remove himself from sleep. It was, quite frankly, a blessing to do so.

It was Betty, of course. Bruised and battered, but standing (although it was obvious that she was in pain- she continually twitched with every unexpected movement- much like he did.) there in his room.

As if his dream had summoned her.

But this Betty wasn't accusatory, although Daniel felt that would come later. As it should. She wasn't in agony, she looked safe and relatively unharmed….

He watched her walk towards him, the sudden want of needing her close caused him to lose his words for a moment. He watched her gain the courage to touch his hand, and he had a fleeting thought of admiration- this woman had to be the most courageous person he knew. Daniel grasped Betty's fingers, grateful for the tangible link with her. When she agreed to stay with him, Daniel felt like he had won some sort of prize.

It hurt to move back to make room for her, but he didn't mind. Her body radiated warmth, and he was glad for it. He felt something soft and fleeting on his forehead and felt some strands of Betty's hair fall against his face just before he drifted back to sleep…

* * *

 

Sometimes Olivia Benson hated her job. When she and Stabler had been handed this media nightmare, she had cringed. Stabler working with anyone wealthy was always interesting. When that wealthy person was the victim, she knew he struggled to keep things professional.

Of course at this point it was just routine. At least there were no children this time. Just some rich guy and his secretary. But, God, this was going to take forever to unravel.

When they rolled up to the hospital, it took them almost an extra ten minutes to get through the barrage of media. This was big news. A recovered kidnapping of one of New York's famous sons? Both victims were (relatively) safe? Unheard of. Olivia flashed her badge a the hospital rent-a-cop and she and Elliot ducked under the makeshift barrier and into the hospital garage. There were more people clustered around the doors to the elevator, and Olivia recognized one of them. They hadn't worked too many cases together… but he was a Fed that was trustworthy. (another miracle.) Well… relatively trustworthy. At least he hadn't tried to screw her over yet.

"Agent Malone. I'm surprised to see you here." She watched as he flicked an eyebrow up in response but remained mostly impassive. He was working with an independent-looking African-American woman that Olivia didn't recognize. He nodded.

"This is Agent Johnson. The other agent took some time off, so we're just here to wrap up a few loose ends. With the family mostly."

Olivia nodded and shook hands with Agent Johnson. "Olivia Benson." She said, not unkindly. "And this is my partner, Elliot Stabler. Special Victims. We haven't had a chance to process Meade and… " Olivia completely blanked on her name for a moment.

"Suarez. The secretary." Elliot chimed in, more than ready to get on with it.

Agent Malone gestured for them to proceed him and his colleague into the elevator. "Apparently there's been a bit of a snafu. They found the secretary in bed with her boss. She actually walked out of ICU and up to his room. Some nurse found them all curled together when she did bed checks, holding hands." For Malone, that was a speech. Olivia blinked in surprise.

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in silence as the four people made their way into hospital administration. There was the usual flurry of activity and confusion when there are too many investigators and not enough people to investigate. They had actually moved Miss Suarez into Mr. Meade's room. Both of them were out of it, but apparently the two parents had okayed the move. It would be less of a logistical nightmare for them to be in the same place, anyway.

It didn't take long to decide who would do what; a simple nod of Elliot's head told her that he was fine with taking the family and with her taking the victims. Similarly, Johnson would go with Elliot, and Malone with her. Olivia smiled just a bit. Malone just raised his eyebrows and a ghost of a grin flitted over his face.

Olivia had seen a lot. Even knowing that they were (for the most part) physically fine didn't mean that they would get any less of her investigative tenacity. So many of her cases were DBs before she ever knew who they were. She had become somewhat jaded of late, but when she pushed the hospital door open just a little bit, and saw how the two had been sleeping (limbs sprawled as much as they could under the covers) with just their hands joined, Olivia had to admit that it made her swallow.

She had, along with most of New York of course, followed Meade in the gossip pages. Elliot would constantly tease her about her "trash", and then ask for an update on so and so. Meade was always linked to legions of beautiful woman-but the relationships hardly had a time to develop before they were over. To see him holding this woman's hand was…well…somehow sweet- both adults taking what comfort they could from each other after their ordeal.

Olivia almost hated to wake them up. But she had work to do.

* * *

 

Claire Meade was exhausted. It was hard to stay awake. The police had been treating them like they had done something wrong- or worse… that Daniel had. Hilda and her father had gotten into a discussion that could probably have been heard down the hall. It was interesting for her to watch them. Hilda was a beautiful woman, and when she got mad you really knew it. Hands were flying everywhere, hair flipped from side to side as she tossed her head… and not for one second did either of them think that her Daniel had hurt Betty. It was asinine to think of.

With all the chaos that was causing her head to pound, that one fact warmed her heart. These people… these _Suarezes_ were all united in their support. Betty was alive. Whatever happened to her (and oh, how she understood the broken look on Ignacio's face- it was torture to know your baby had been hurt and you had been powerless to stop it) wasn't Daniel's fault.

Justin sat down besides her and handed her a cup. Claire smiled at him. He was such a sweet boy. She could smell the honey and lemon in the tea, and as much as the taste would be improved by adding a shot of bourbon, she neither had the alcohol nor wanted to hurt this boy's feelings.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I know you're not a big tea drinker, but they only seem to have tea and coffee. And the coffee?" He shuddered delicately. "Horrible. Smells stale. Powered creamer- I wouldn't serve it to my worst enemy."

Her smile turned more genuine. Impulsively, she put her arm around his thin shoulders. He seemed startled for a moment, but leaned against her willingly enough.

Claire shut her eyes… for a moment. Just a moment… it was so nice to relax and feel comforted.

She couldn't say how long she lie there but when she woke up, her and Justin had a blanket thrown over them. Hilda was pacing and muttering darkly under her breath. Ignacio was pointedly ignoring her while looking at a newspaper. He peeked out over the top of it as Claire eased out from under the blanket. Justin curled up, completely oblivious. She walked to the restroom and used the facilities, splashing water on her face. She looked every one of her fifty-fi… alright fifty-nine years. She repaired her makeup and refreshed her hair.

When she emerged, a doctor was walking in the room. _Finally! Some news!_

"Mrs. Meade, your son seems to have pulled through his surgery with flying colors."

Oh, _God._ The sudden relief made her legs weak. Claire had to grab the chair for support. "Wh-wh.." She couldn't even talk from the sudden rush of tears to her throat.

The doctor smiled kindly at her. He seemed to understand her distress and gestured for her to sit on the couch. In her shock, Claire had barely noticed the three other people that had entered with the man in the scrubs.

Ignacio came over to the couch and took her hand. Hilda sat on his right-hand side. Justin came to sit by her left, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

The doctor took the stool under the counter and pulled it so he could have a conversation with them. "Well, ma'am… I have a lot of news for you. And these two people, Agent Spade and Officer Stabler have some additional questions to ask." He seemed to pause to gather his thoughts. "Mr. Suarez, I of course have information on your daughter as well." He smiled at him, then began.

"I guess I'll start with the injuries. As I said, Mr. Meade had two bullets enter his upper chest area. One was in the shoulder. There was some nerve and muscle damage, but with therapy he can expect a almost full recovery. The wound to his lung was obviously more worrisome, but I am pleased to report that he came through surgery with flying colors. He's very healthy, no smoking, no ..well…not _too_ many vices…I'm willing to say that if no complications arise in the next 48 hours, he will make a full recovery from that as well."

Claire started to cry quietly, each tear trailing down her cheek glinting in the fluorescent lights.

"As for your daughter, sir… well the strangest thing has happened. Several hours ago she woke up and was distraught, according to the nurse's notes. She was given a sedative and even after that wore off, she was apparently still upset enough that she sought out Mr. Meade's hospital room- even with all her injuries. They were found curled up together like a couple of kids. Sir, it's not really my place to say this, but whatever happened to them in the woods? Miss Suarez is really going to need to talk with someone about it. She made it up several floors with a sprained back, a dislocated shoulder, a broken wrist and severely sprained ankle. Not to mention she was slightly concussed. I know these officers will have their own ideas, but in my opinion there is no way that Mr. Meade was responsible for harming her."

One of the "officers", a woman, cleared her throat.

Ignacio's hand tightened almost spastically. "Can we see them?" His voice was horse with emotion.

A woman who had remained in the background until this point stepped forward. "Hello. I'm Maria Olivas, one of the hospital administrators. It is highly unusual for us to put people of the opposite sex in the same hospital room."

Claire drew herself up to all five feet and two inches of her height. She opened her mouth to say something less than kind, but the woman, obviously anticipating her comment quickly continued. "But of course, in light of the Meade family's significant contributions to this facility, and in the interests of security, we would of course be willing to accommodate Mr. Meade's wishes. His room is being made up as we speak, and I will be happy to escort you there."

Claire, already bored with the woman's kissing up, turned her attention to the police and governmental officers. "And what do you want?"

The man spoke up. "Well, ma'am, normal procedure is to interview the family for information, but I can certainly understand that you're waiting to go up to your son. If you wouldn't mind giving me a few minutes of your time for my initial report, I can reschedule my interview when it's more convenient." The woman standing next to him's face was a study in shock. Claire really didn't care. She just wanted to see her boy.

The interview was conducted as quickly as possible. Claire and Ignacio really didn't know all that many details that Officer Stabler and Agent Spade didn't already know. She was surprised by the tactfulness of him bowing out and letting them (finally!) go on their way.

She didn't remember the elevator ride. It was like one minute she was one place, and another minute she was standing in front of Daniel's door, facing two security guards. That hospital administrator was babbling a mile a minute, but Claire had long since tuned her out. The Suarezes had sort of huddled in on themselves and left her to walk in front. Which was fine.

"How did Betty get by two security guards?" Justin's voice was filled with equal amounts of trepidation and awe.

"There used to be only one guard. Apparently he was sleeping."

Claire looked at the administrator. Her derisive sniff said it all, if the way the administrator refused to make eye contact was any indication. Claire pushed open the hospital door. Ignacio held it open for her with a courtesy that she doubted he even noticed he was doing. It was …nice. She took a deep breath and walked inside the room.

And oh, how her heart caught when she saw him. He was asleep, curled up as best he could with one arm flung out towards the other bed. It was exactly like he used to sleep when he was a teenager. Claire bit her lip and walked towards him. Betty's bed was on the other side. She had woken up when they had walked into the room, and was looking over at her father.

"Papi! Hilda! Justin!" She held out her arms and Claire watched as her family shared a group hug. It was a little awkward with all of them trying to hug her without hurting her, but it was sweet too.

Claire turned away, feeling like an interloper. She reached out one cold, shaking hand to Daniel's forehead, and kissed his nose as she'd done millions of times... after numerous heartbreaks and hurts. As she straightened, she saw his eyes open.

"Mom?"

Tears sprung to her eyes again. She grabbed his hand (the one without any bandaging) and cried into it, nodding.

"Oh… mom." Daniel's voice cracked. He winced as he raised his arms up- he couldn't sit up all the way, so Claire met him halfway.

It was the most lovely hug of her life.

Agents Malone and Spade as well as Officers Stabler and Benson all melted out of the doorway. Its occupants were completely oblivious to their presence.

"I think that having all of us here is overkill." Agent Malone's voice was rueful as he looked that them clustered around the bed. The security guard on the left closed the door and they all sat down on the bench near the nurse's station.

"Agreed." Stabler spoke in as short a sentence as humanly possible. "We can give you our notes if you want. I plan to interview them later. Give them some time together before the press finds out."

Agent Spade nodded vigorously, blond ponytail bouncing with each movement of their head. "Agreed. They didn't know anything that hadn't been fed to them by an officer or hospital personnel. How about we take the people at the magazine, and you two finish up with the family?"

Malone and Benson looked at each other and nodded. Not exactly protocol, but when had that ever stopped them?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that hospitals don't work like this. :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Friday, 2:00 pm.**

**Two weeks later….**

Daniel itched.

He tried to wiggle his back against the mattress to get the itch to go away, but it wasn't working. He scrunched down on his bed, ignoring how his boxers traveled somewhere highly uncomfortable, and cursed under his breath. There were some stitches in the middle of his back, near the bottom of his shoulder bone. He couldn't reach it, because his arm was still in a sling. Which was better than a cast. Much. But GOD he itched!

He heard the doorbell, and made his way out of his bed, straightening his boxers as he went. He didn't bother looking through the peephole. He had his own security to keep the press away. Even after two weeks, they were still circling his and Betty's apartment like vultures over a dead carcass. Some of the more enterprising ones had even driven out to Queens and to his mother's estate in Sutton Place. So, whoever it was at the door had to have gone through security, and was therefore trustworthy.

He opened the door, not even caring that much that his boxers were a vivid aqua color with bright yellow smiley faces over them. They were a gag gift from one of his college friends, and he wore them probably more than the Editor of a major fashion magazine should. Besides. He was too damn lazy to take the time to get dressed. Seeing who was visiting him was much more important. If he had to watch another episode of Montel, he was going to go freaking insane.

"Good Morn-uh… wow." Betty made a dramatically overdone averting of her eyes movement at seeing a sleepy Daniel in hideously bright underwear. Honestly, the shorts were so … _bright…_ that she didn't even notice his near-nakedness for a minute.

Daniel was scratching his back against the corner of the door. "Oh thank God. I'm so glad you're here." He turned around and bent over just a little so that his taller frame was more accessible by her shorter one. "Scratch! Now!"

Betty blinked. One eyebrow rose. She was pretty sure that she wasn't drooling, but thought that she might have to check to be absolutely certain. He had the most… beautiful… back. Daniel had lost weight, and she could see the stitches; a small reddish blemish in what was otherwise a fine specimen of male, toned, tanned…wait. Wasn't she supposed to be doing something? Oh. Yes.

Daniel felt her cold fingers on his back and sighed as she gently rubbed around the stitched area. "A little to the... just a tad harder… ohhhh yee-aah. That's it. You have amazing fingers…" Daniel trailed off when he realized exactly what it was that he was saying. He cleared his throat and straightened up. "Ahem. Um, what I mean is, err… come on in." He moved away from the door and ignored the fact that he was blushing just a little. "I'll just go get some clothes on." Daniel walked a little quicker than he normally would and cursed himself for being so apathetic to his appearance that he managed to look like a fool- twice- in front of Betty.

But that was nothing new.

Daniel sighed and stepped into an old pair of jersey shorts. The t-shirt took a little more effort to maneuver around the sling, but he managed to get dressed in record time… well for someone with the use of only one arm. He ducked into his bathroom and brushed his teeth. His hair looked okay after he quickly wet and brushed it. Daniel peered at himself in the mirror, debating on whether or not to put on some cologne. He squinted at his appearance. He really needed a haircut. His blush returned when he realized that he was primping for… Betty. God. He felt like he was fourteen again.

Daniel and Betty's relationship had changed significantly after their ordeal. Daniel found himself in the hospital, thinking of her constantly, wondering how she was and how she was fairing. Those thoughts continued after she was checked out. Her family had kept her under wraps for a whole week after she was released from the hospital, and Daniel found himself somewhat resentful. He missed her. It had only been the last few days that she had been stopping by. She hadn't been as hurt has him and it was a little easier for her to be the more mobile of the two of them. Well… hurt physically. Daniel's mind shied away from the implications of any other impairment. His mother had been trying to get him to speak to a psychiatrist for what felt like months. It hadn't been "months" of course, but each time that he spoke to her- either on the phone or in person she casually mentioned it. Or not so casually. It was tiresome. But Betty- she had a reason to go. In fact, that was one of the things he had spoken to her about.

Daniel opened his door and smiled at Betty. She was looking at her phone confusedly but looked up when he came out into the living room.

"Hi. Sorry about that." Daniel thought his voice sounded exceptionally loud in the room. Betty certainly jumped a little. He saw her shiver and worried that the flat was too cold. He felt fine.

"No problem." Betty cast her eyes back down to her phone.

"Anything important?" Daniel asked, nodding towards the phone. He went over to the kitchen and set about getting something to drink. "You want anything?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Whatever you're having is fine. No.. I just keep getting all these texts from an unlisted number. Oh and voicemails where nothing is said. It wouldn't be a big deal, but I'm waiting for my YETI contacts to call, and … well every time the darn thing rings I think it's something awesome. Then it's not anything."

Daniel paused for a moment. "That's kind of weird. How about a Diet Coke?"

Betty raised an eyebrow again, staring at him from over her glasses. "Oh, real subtle there Meade."

Daniel's jaw dropped as he realized what she was getting at. The soda slipped through his fingers and struck the counter. "Oh! No.. I didn't mea.. I mean I was just… I would nev…" he couldn't seem to finish a thought.

Betty's smile at his expense was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Oh hush. I was just teasing." She pressed her lips together as though that was only one thing that was keeping her from busting out laughing.

Daniel mock glared at her. He loved how easy they were with each other, but not overly fond at her sudden self-deprecating humor. Daniel was so busy glaring that when he opened his soda, the carbonation spewed forth when the tab _schnkkked_ back that he was undignified even further by having to suck the soda down quickly so that it wouldn't spill down the front of him. He turned away from Betty's outright laughing face as the bubbles went up his nose.

 _Smooth, Meade… real…. Smooth_. He wiggled his nose to get the uncomfortable feeling out and came over to his couch, sitting down next to Betty. He set her soda down onto the coffee table, somewhat clumsily. He could feel the heat of her body-which seemed to distract him from most of his higher motor functions. Daniel casually stretched his arm across the back of the couch, trying not to remember how she felt pressed against him, or how her mouth tasted…. Daniel took a rather quick gulp of his soda, and averted his eyes from Betty's amused gaze. He had to stop thinking like this. He was like some teenager- fourteen was too mature. He was like the kid in the back of the class giggling whenever he saw one of his classmate's bra straps. It was pathetic. The closeness that had developed between them since their kidnapping was too precious for him to screw up. It meant too much. Acting like a kid with a crush wasn't helping.

"-Mode."

What? Daniel shook himself out of his thoughts and forced himself to pay attention to Betty's words. "I'm sorry; I was off in my own little world there. What did you say?"

Betty smiled again. Daniel had a quick flashmemory of her face, wet and miserable as they huddled in the tree. He swallowed hard against the memories of the rest of that night.

"Oh, I said you mom is coming by. She said that she needed to explain some things before we go back to Mode. I..uh… I kind of wanted to talk to you about that."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Talk to me about... my mother? Or Mode?"

Betty had pulled her gaze from his. She looked down at her hands which were nervously manipulating her cell phone over and over through her fingers. "Mode." She whispered the word as though she were ashamed of it.

Daniel felt a small twinge of panic.

"I… don't know if I want to go back there." Betty said in a small voice, quite unlike the amused tone she used a few seconds ago. "I just… It's just that…" her voice trailed off, still manipulating her phone through her fingers.

Daniel felt the small twinge of panic turn into something more along the lines of a four-alarm fire. "You… don't want to be with me?" To his horror, his first thought actually came out. He covered quickly with, "Work. To work with me?"

Betty nodded. "I'm not… sure. I haven't completely thought my way through it. But, I thought that it might be a little awkward. You know, working there with all of those people that know us… and know what's happened. It's just… daunting."

Daunting. Daniel felt his hand tighten imperceptibly on the soda can. His jaw tightened. Daniel was saved from having to comment by the ringing of his doorbell. He stood, and touched Betty's chin, gently tilting her head up so that he could look her in the eyes.

"I want to talk about this later, okay?"

She nodded. Daniel crossed to the door and opened it, not surprised to see his mother there. He was flabbergasted to see Marc and… Wilhelmina with her.

Claire saw her son's eyes widen as he saw Wilhelmina standing behind her. She saw him tug on his t-shirt self-consciously, hardly aware that he had done so. Which infuriated her. This whole bloody situation infuriated her, filled her with such anger and hatred that she wanted to hit something. Preferably the smug, husband-stealing, statuesque bitch behind her. Marc was behind Wilhelmina looking completely out of his element. Daniel raised an eyebrow, flicking his gaze dismissively over Wilhelmina's assistant. He leaned in to kiss his mother's cheek, and Claire forced a smile.

"Hello, darling. We have some news for you, and it really can't wait."

Daniel seemed to remember his manners all at once. He stood to the side, holding open the door for them to enter. "Mother. Of course not. Please come in. Hello, Wilhelmina… Marc…." His smile looked just as sickly and forced as hers. She had a brief minute of heartache. Knowing what she knew, this was going to really hurt him. "Betty mentioned that you'd be stopping by. Would any of you like anything to drink? Perrier? Soda? Merlot?"

Claire sailed into the apartment, resisting the urge to flip her scarf over and around her neck. Marc opened his mouth, as if he were going to respond to Daniel's query, but a murderous look from Wilhelmina stilled his voice. Betty had sprung up and had moved behind the couch. She looked a little uncertain but smiled at Claire anyway. Claire found herself awash with emotion for this woman in front of her. Betty had saved her boy. Betty had been with him, suffered with him… had taken care of him. Claire surprised herself by holding out her arms and embracing Daniel's diminutive assistant. She felt Betty's arms come around her briefly. Claire let go and smiled at the other woman. "Thanks for being my messenger. We'll be out of your hair in just a bit."

"Oh, um... Mrs. Meade… do you need me to leave? If you need to have a conversation with Daniel, I'm sure that I don't need to be here." Betty looked a little intimidated by all of the attention she was receiving.

"Of course not. This concerns you too."

Everyone seated themselves around the room. Claire flatly refused to sit near Wilhelmina, so she chose a chair. Daniel set near her in another chair, and Wilhelmina, Marc, and Betty faced them on the couch.

Claire resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Wilhelmina took up the reins of the conversation.

"Daniel, Betty. It's so good to see the both of you safe and sound." Her eyes flicked over Daniel's sling.

Claire was surprised to see something like sorrow flick in the depths of Wilhelmina's eyes. Claire was so stunned at the manifestation of honest emotion that she found herself thawing just a bit towards the other woman.

"I'm afraid my news is abyssal. Catastrophic for the company, and… personally." She took a deep breath. "Marc. Explain." She barked the commands, startling Marc into sitting up straight and flushing deeply.

He coughed. Itched his head. Finally, he spoke. "I was filing in Willie's alcove- you know the one off her office? When I overheard… Connor. Confess something to Wilhelmina."

Daniel spoke up, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Confess? Did you tell the police what you overheard?"

"Yes." Uncharacteristically, Marc was completely subdued… even serious.

The mood was shattered somewhat by Betty's phone buzzing. She jumped, startled and looked down at the readout. Betty frowned, and then turned off her phone. "I'm sorry," She apologized looking over at Marc.

Marc frowned at her, but took a deep breath and continued. "It was Connor. He… he… orchestrated all of this. The kidnapping. Only, Betty wasn't supposed to be there. It was a.. a…." Marc's voice wavered. Claire, who knew what he was going to say, felt sorry for him.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Marc. Don't be such a girl about it." Wilhelmina leaned back and crossed her legs, body language fairly screaming her exasperation at Marc's dithering around. "It was a publicity stunt. Connor initialized this whole debacle for publicity for Meade publications. Betty being included seemed to have thrown the plans into chaos, and things … got out of control."

Claire watched as Daniel's eyes met Betty's. She could see the girl's face pale to an unhealthy hue, and watched as her eyes widened enormously behind her glasses.

"It…it…was my fault?" The whisper was just the barest hint of sounds.

Claire's glare towards Wilhelmina turned frosty. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course it wasn't your fault. It was Connor's fault… and whoever the jackass was that accepted Connor's little 'assignment'. You had nothing to do with this, other than to keep my Daniel sane throughout the whole ordeal. You saved his life, Betty."

"He saved mine too." A small smile flickered over her pale lips and her gaze met Daniel's.

Claire inwardly gave herself a high five as she watched Betty and Daniel's eyes meet. And meet.

And…meet.

Even Wilhelmina seemed to find the situation amusing, allowing them to come out of their moment, and find something else to fix their gazes on. Betty seemed to find Marc's shoe vastly interesting, while Daniel examined a hangnail with precise deliberation. Claire bit the inside of her cheek as matching shades of pink stained their cheeks.

Really. This was almost too simple. Claire cleared her throat.

"There's more, unfortunately."

She felt the gazes on her like a weight. She took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, Connor left before the police and FBI agents could question him. And … he took our money with him."

Claire watched as Marc's subdued gaze fell to the floor. This was the news that Clare had forbade anyone telling her son until he was healthy enough to be released from the hospital. "Almost all of Meade Publication's finances are missing. The company is… broke. While you were gone, we've managed to get the latest issue together, and we have probably just enough money tied up in property and investments that we can get this issue out. But… after that…"

Daniel was staring at her like a fish. "Broke? Meade Publications is… broke? All of those magazines? How is that… how is that even possible?"

Wilhelmina spoke up. "Don't worry Daniel. Your personal finances are secure. Just the business ones were embezzled."

Daniel's blue gaze swung from his mother's to his Co-Editor in Chief's. "I don't care about my money. But what about all those magazines? Those people need their jobs, Wilhelmina. If we have to cut some of the less solvent magazines, as I imagine that we will to keep the more money making magazines afloat, that is… that's a lot of people out of work." Daniel had risen to his feet and glared down at the woman on the couch.

Claire watched from her chair, suddenly so proud of him that she thought she might burst. Two years ago…even a year ago … she knew Daniel wouldn't have spared a thought for Meade's employees. He would have been worried about how this catastrophe made him look.

Daniel started pacing back and forth. Wilhelmina's eyes met Claire's for the briefest of moments before flicking away and watching the agitated man.

Claire stifled a sigh. She understood why Wilhelmina was there. Although she would have preferred to handle this herself, she was business-savvy enough to not protest overmuch- although she wanted to keep this in the family, she really couldn't. Marc was there because as Wilhelmina's shadow it was his job to be… but she resented him witnessing such a tense moment. Perversely, Betty she didn't mind at all.

The assembled people waited until Daniel turned around. "Okay." His voice was subdued. Claire could see the beginnings of a worry wrinkle on his forehead. "I don't think there is much that I can do about it tonight. But tomorrow, we need a meeting- I need to be apprised of everything else I've missed since Betty and I were… uh. Gone. Lay everything on the table. Wilhelmina, you have really handled this whole mess… superbly. I really can't thank you enough." Daniel looked Wilhelmina straight into her eyes. Sincerity seemed almost to shine off of him, regardless of his informal attire. "I really mean that. I know that we've had our differences but you have this magazine's best interests at heart and that is a truly valuable asset to this company."

Wilhelmina blinked, looking somewhat flabbergasted. "Thank you, Daniel." She said quietly. "Marc will schedule that for you. We already have most of the information so it will be simplicity itself." She gathered her belongings and stood. "Around eleven then. And who knows, possibly this issue will sell and we can use the profit to hold the wolf from the door for a few more weeks until we get things figured out." Marc stood with her and they both made their way towards the door.

"We… we might not have to." Betty, when she spoke, was hesitant. She was staring vaguely in Daniel's direction, absently tapping her cell phone against her chin as she thought. "Connor did this… for publicity, right? We need to sell this issue like mad… well… why don't we really give them publicity? Daniel and I have been fairly hidden from the media since .. well.. the Incident." She made over-exaggerated quotation marks with the first two fingers of each hand. "A press conference. Daniel can be in the foreground and … we can invite only certain media outlets to give it a more …intimate feel." She trailed off and looked up at Daniel. "You'd have to be willing to answer… everything."

Daniel stared back at her. Claire could almost see the emotions warring on his face. Shame, Anger. Nervousness. Admiration. "You too. They're not going to let you be in the background, Betty," he said gently.

"I… I know."

"And you're still willing?" Daniel had stopped his pacing and had taken an involuntary step foreword, seeming to completely have forgotten about the three other people in his living room.

"I… it will be horrible. But I can do it. You'll be there." She forced a smile. On the Betty Smile-o-Meter it was not even close to the room-brightening grin she usually hit him with, but Daniel seemed to appreciate the effort.

Claire suddenly felt that the room was entirely too crowded. She gathered her things, stood and walked to kiss Daniel on the cheek. "I think I'll head out too. Sorry to drop such horrible news on you, but I know Betty and you have a lot to discuss. It might be a good idea to feed the questions to the media, so you guys have a little…." She trailed off realizing that she was babbling. "Strategy session. Go to a movie. Relax. We'll see you at the magazine tomorrow."

Claire fought to keep the smile off of her face as she walked to the door. The older woman put her hand on Betty's shoulder, an affectionate gesture that was not lost on anyone else in the room. Wilhelmina and Marc said their goodbyes and they all rode down together on the elevator. Claire was so pleased by all underlying emotion between her son and Betty that she couldn't even find it in her to be upset at having to share an elevator. She even found herself humming as she left Daniel's building.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Betty sighed.

"Well, that was subtle." Daniel rolled his eyes at his parent's abrupt departure. Daniel held his hand up to his lips and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "I think my mom wants us to be… alone," he stage-whispered.

Betty just stared at him, amazed that he could make a joke after everything that had happened in the past ten minutes. She couldn't believe that Meade Publications was broke. And Connor…. Oh _God,_ that was Daniel's friend! They had gone to school together…. She blinked and got up to go get some ice, completely lost in thought. Betty's gaze was caught by some take-out menus on the freezer door, and her stomach rumbled. She turned, opening her mouth to call out to Daniel, but instead was surprised to bump up against a warm, solid male body.

The kitchen was not overly huge. (Although plenty big enough for a man who had just about every restaurant within two blocks on speed-dial.) Hilda called kitchens that size a "one-butt kitchen." Daniel was in the process of reaching up over her head to get something in the cabinet, and when Betty turned suddenly they bumped up flush against each other, Daniel staring down at her surprised, and Betty staring up at him with her mouth still open a little to holler for his attention. His arm, raised in the process of reaching came around her waist to steady himself so that he didn't fall over.

Time seemed to slide away. Betty could feel her whole body clench, her heart speed up. She shut her mouth with a little "pop" of sound, which caused Daniel's gaze to zero in on her lips.

Betty forgot to breathe. She stared up at Daniel's familiar face, watched the pupils dilate as his gaze sharpened. Her heart sped up just a little, so that she thought inanely that he would hear it knocking against her ribs. Was he going to kiss her? More importantly, did she _want_ him to kiss her?

Daniel tilted his head just a fraction of an inch….

… and Betty's phone buzzed. They both jumped apart, completely startled out of any almost-tender moment between the two of them. Daniel took a step back and cleared his throat. Betty ducked her head and stepped around him, trying to nonchalantly speed walk over to her phone without being obvious that she was desperate to put as much space between her and her boss as possible. She was grateful to see the readout on her screen flashing Justin's picture.

"Justin…hello!"

"Hi, Aunt Betty. Grandpa wants to know if you'll be home for dinner or if we should eat without you."

Betty cringed. "Um, that's a good question. I think... I'll just stay in the City tonight. Go by my apartment and maybe see if I can talk Amanda into some pizza or something."

"Oh, okay. Have fun! Call when you get home."

"Okay. Love you Justin. Bye."

"Bye!"

Betty couldn't blame them for checking in on her. It was certainly understandable. But God it made her feel as though she was breaking curfew again.

"So… Pizza, huh?" Daniel's voice seemed overly jovial. "I was just thinking about ordering some. My treat. If... um… you don't mind of course. I guess I just assumed that we could go over some ideas. But if you have plans we can always reschedule."

Betty recognized the uncertainty behind the smile. Unconfident Daniel had the ability to make her do just about anything that he wanted. It was the way he tried to seem like he knew what was going on, but underneath he obviously had no idea that pulled at her. It was completely adorable. She put her phone back down on the coffee table.

Well, if he could ignore that weird…moment… from before, then she certainly could. Betty was still trying to shake the feeling that he had been going to kiss her. Since that night in the cabin, she had thought about their kiss, remembered how his skin and musculature had felt under her fingertips- but had steadfastly refused to act on any of those memories. He was … Daniel. Her boss! And she was just… convenient. She had just been in the right place at the right time- he had just wanted to comfort her and she had pushed it all out of proportion. Witness how they never spoke of it. If he wanted to ignore the events of that night (well of course he did- he was probably disgusted, but liked her enough that didn't want to hurt her feelings) then she could do the same. As a courtesy. She certainly owed him that much…

"Actually, a pie sounds great." She smiled. "And, we do probably want to talk about some of what to do with the media. If we act quickly enough MODE should be able to capitalize on the free publicity." She sat back down and rooted through her purse while Daniel called in the pizza. She found a pen and a notebook stenciled with little butterflies all over the cover. It was her favorite. She wrote IDEAS FOR PRESS CONFERENCE at the top. Then underlined it. Then doodled little flowers next to the I and the E. She wrote the number one with a dot besides it, and then turned the dot into a backwards C, then the backwards C into a circle around the number. By that time, Daniel had finished with the pizza order and had seated himself on the couch next to her. They both were turned in towards each other, Betty with her legs crossed and her back up against the armrest. Daniel was turned slightly in towards her, but had his feet up on the coffee table.

"Okay. So…. First things first." Daniel tilted his head so that his neck was on the back of the couch. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Damn Connor. I can't believe it. I mean… Connor? We used to hang out together in school. The two of us versus the rest of the world. I remember we got up to quite a lot of trouble…. " Daniel trailed off for a moment. "It's horrible enough that he orchestrated that whole mess to sell a few lousy copies of the magazine, but …. Damnit. Mom says that I should go to counseling or therapy or whatever to talk out our experience, but until this moment I've never really felt like I needed to, y'know? I mean, how much can one person deal with before they explode?"

Betty nodded, and reached out to grasp his hand. "You know, my dad is the same way. Only he wants to be the one that I talk to. Or he says I should talk to you. A therapist though, that would be a nice way to… I don't know. Put it in perspective, I think. But you can always talk to me."

Daniel looked over at her and half-smiled. "I know. Believe me, I know. This friendship we have is one of the things that… well... I just don't want to screw it up is all. I don't know about the therapist. I might go if things tend to be too much. But the last thing I need right now is some other idiot looking at me or judging the 'poor little rich boy'." He squeezed her hand and Betty picked up her pen again. Daniel sighed.

"Speaking of poor little rich boy…" Betty tried to lighten the mood with a teasing lilt in her voice. Daniel made a face at her. "You were right when you said that they would be brutal. You have more press conference experience than me, so how do you want to swing this? Open forum?"

Daniel thought for a moment.

"Well, I think we should be completely honest for one. Right now, we have kind of a good vibe going for us. Believe me, that's nice for me not being Manhattan's ManSlut in the papers for once."

Betty raised an eyebrow. "Don't be melodramatic. You were downgraded to 'Manhattan's Gigolo' the last time I checked. Quite the accomplishment with this economy…"

"Oh, Ha. Ha. and _Ha_."

Betty grinned. "But to answer your question, I really think an open forum would be best. Maybe invite four reporters from the network media, four from the printed media… something like that so that we don't feel like we're in a fishbowl. Even with camera people, that would be much less… um… intimidating than facing a room full of shouted questions and flashing cameras."

"The board room could be easily adapted for that. Us kind of up front and comfortable chairs in like a circle? A horseshoe?" Daniel's brow creased as he thought.

Betty was scribbling furiously. "Sounds good. I can make some calls after the food gets here. What about the types of questions that they're gonna ask? I can imagine just about everything will be put out there..." She trailed off and nibbled on the end of her pen, staring off into space.

"We should probably have our lawyer there."

Daniel's words caused Betty to focus from her inner introspection to Daniel. "Lawyer? Why? Would having him there sort of give the wrong idea? We don't want to seem as though we have anything to hide."

"Well, that guy is still running around. The police have come up with nada, and that's with both of our descriptions. Connor's "unavailable for comment" and the others involved are all dead, so... I just think that we should have someone there to look for our future legal issues. And they will catch him, Betty. He will pay for everything he did to you."

"To us, Daniel. He hurt you too. More than he ever hurt me…" Betty's voice trailed off into silence, once again reliving that night with the gun; the terror of not having any control over her situation. Then, days later, watching Daniel fall, seeing the blood blossom on his back and chest….

"Hey." Daniel's voice was gentle. She heard it as though through a tunnel. Betty gave her head a little shake. He must have been watching her remember. Betty looked at him, solemnly. "I just don't want something said that we can't bounce back from is all. No evil plan or any—"

The doorbell rang.

Daniel bounced up and scooped his wallet off of the counter. He had a deal worked so that one of the security people accepted all deliveries, and Daniel just left money down there for that purpose. Which was smart, Betty reflected, because then he didn't have to worry about an overly-ambitious paparazzi sneaking in with the double mushrooms.

The smell of the pizza wafted in before Daniel said thanks to the security person and shut the door with his foot. Betty felt her mouth start to water. Daniel had gotten a two-liter of Dr. Pepper and ordered napkins. (Betty had never figured out why he didn't seem to ever have napkins.) So, he just swung by the kitchen, grabbed the whatever-it-was he had been reaching for- a bottle of some kind- and two glasses. He opened the freezer and balanced a small ice holder with a lid on top of the pizza box, and made his slow and unsteady way back towards her.

"I remembered that you don't really care for beer, so I thought we could try this. Malibu is a kind of rum, and it's really great with Dr. Pepper," Daniel said as he made his way back to the living room. "It's kind of a college drink, but it doesn't taste like alcohol. And don't worry; I'll make sure that you get to your apartment safely."

Betty smiled up at him. "Aw, Mr. Meade, are you trying to get me drunk?"

Daniel stopped himself from smiling goofily down at her. He set everything onto the coffee table and chose to sit on the floor instead of on the couch. "Nah… I don't want to get you drunk exactly, but I need this to relax. Today has sucked and… well…"

"Oh, you don't need to explain. I was just joking. Besides, why would you want to get me drunk in the first place?" She smiled again and got up, making her way to the bathroom.

Daniel didn't know what to think. His mind was whirling from so many different things that he couldn't focus on any one of them. Faraway in some corner he knew he should be thinking about his company. He knew he should be concentrating on the media circus to follow- or even the meeting tomorrow with all the department heads. But all he could see in his mind was her sweet face. Watching her breath catch. Looking at her lips, the way that her mouth was open just a little bit…Her tongue had peeked out just a little as she had nervously licked her bottom lip. And feeling her again. His arm had fit around her like it was meant to- as though it had been aching to for ages and finally had the opportunity. He could still feel her body pressed against his… the softness of her breasts, the contrasting sharpness as her nipples peaked against his chest through the thin t-shirt he wore. It had taken him a few minutes to get his body back under control. Daniel was glad of the excuse of ordering the pizza. It had helped to get his mind off the awkward feelings by talking about all of the media plans, but it was still in the back of his mind. Always. Like the spark before the flame, he couldn't stop thinking about Betty.

Should he? Shouldn't he? Back and forth… constantly weighing the pros and cons of any kind of relationship with her.

Daniel slapped his hands down on the coffee table in frustration, then scrubbed the palm of his hands over his face as though to brush away his uncomfortable thoughts. He poured himself a drink and tossed it back. Daniel heard the bathroom door open and quickly added some soda to his glass, masquerading how much alcohol was actually in there.

"That pizza smells good!" Betty smiled brightly as she walked down the small corridor. She smoothed her hands over her hair and came over to sit on the floor besides him. She was cross-legged and had slipped off her shoes. Daniel tried not to notice how the outline of the red tights shaped her legs. Her skirt was long enough to keep everything decent, but Daniel had an extremely good memory.

Daniel's heart thudded in his chest. She was so close. Over the pizza smells, he could detect the vanilla scented soap he used in the guest bathroom, and the aroma wafted from around the woman next to him. It was intoxicating. He handed Betty her pizza and ate mechanically, hardly aware of his surroundings, or of the fact that Betty had poured herself a drink and was cautiously tasting it. Daniel had a fleeting thought that he was glad the angle of the coffee table hid his reaction to her; because lord knew the shorts he was wearing didn't, before engaging in some rather chit-chatty conversation. By unspoken agreement they decided to table any of the weightier subjects until later.

"So- what was private school like? Did you go away or did your mom keep you close to her?"

Daniel blinked and swallowed his pizza, studiously ignoring anything that might embarrass either one of them. "Um… both. I was at boarding school for a few years, but got kicked out for finding Heaven when playing 7th Heaven. Or maybe it was truth or Dare. I don't remember. Why?"

Betty shrugged. "Oh, I was just wondering. You know… my experiences with school were so very different from yours. You mentioned that you valued our friendship, and I had just been thinking about how well… different we are. Not that I hadn't noticed before of course…"

"Well, you know opposites do attract. So sayeth Paula Abdul, therefore true it must be." Daniel could have bitten his tongue off for bringing up "attract". _What an idiot_ , he belittled himself.

Betty cocked her head to the left and looked at him like he was insane. "Paula… Abdul?"

Daniel nodded solemnly. "Abdulism. The belief that…" but then he couldn't think of anything witty to say because she was laughing hysterically at his silliness and it was such a pleasure to watch her laugh. He contrived to look innocent. "What? What did I say?" He idly noticed that his drink was gone. He poured himself another, and then topped her glass with soda.

"Seriously, Daniel? You might want to rethink that therapy after all…" Betty giggled behind her hand, covering her smile.

Daniel threw a napkin at her. "So what brought on the school question? I don't know that we're all that different… really. Well, aside from the obvious." He smiled and finished his pizza.

Betty was still grinning a little. "Yeah, the obvious being you're rich, gorgeous, and successful."

Daniel felt his answering grin drain away a little. "Why do you keep doing that?" He cocked his head to the side.

Betty looked puzzled. "Do… what?"

"I've just noticed that.. well… lately you've been kind of down on yourself. Like earlier before my mother got here. Or, just now when you called me gorgeous, kinda implying that you're…. "He didn't quite know how to finish that sentence do he just trailed off.

He saw Betty's chin go up. "I know what I am, Daniel… and gorgeous isn't it."

He stared at her, flabbergasted. If she had just confessed to walking down the street naked in a hula skirt, he couldn't have been more shocked or surprised.

"Oh, it's not a big deal. I mean, naturally I never got invited to those kinds of games when I was in school. I didn't go to parties, and believe me, no one was thinking that they wanted to snuggle up or do whatever with me at them. Do their homework for them, maybe." A small smile ghosted over her face.

Daniel let himself be distracted. He didn't know what to say to her- well. Okay, to be honest he knew what he wanted to say. But actually saying it- telling her that she was beautiful… and having her believe him… was scary. It went back to the should he/shouldn't he dilemma. Should he make a move? Slide over and kiss her senseless like he'd been dying to do all evening? And then what? He was complete shit at relationships. When he screwed everything six ways to Sunday (and Daniel had no doubts that he would definitely be the one to mess up) then what? Not have her in his life? That was unacceptable.

Betty was using her crust to trace the letters on the pizza box. "I bet it was fun."

"Huh?" Daniel was completely confused. "What was fun?"

"Well, I was invited to Kimmie's slumber party once. All the girls in eighth grade were. And Kimmie had snuck some boys into the party since her parents had gone to a movie. But… they invited me to watch her little sister. Not go to the party. It did sound like they were having fun, though."

Daniel's fist clenched. If he could redo the whole "Kimmie" situation over again, he definitely would have. With vastly different and far more satisfying results. That was just another example of how he had let Betty down….

He cleared his throat, dusted off his hands and got up, walking into his bedroom. He was back in a moment and set a small digital clock on the table. Fuck it. Maybe it was selfish, but he had to take that wistful tone out of her voice. It made his heart ache. If playing "Seven Minutes" would make her smile again then so be it.

"Daniel, what are you doing?" Betty allowed him to haul her to her feet and lead her over to his couch.

"Duh. Hush up Suarez and onto the couch."

Betty allowed him to usher her back to "her" side. She watched as he pulled the overdrape over the window. He had the blinds closed, but they were such that light could still come in the big bay windows. Pulling the overdrapes make it fairly dark in the living room. He went and shut off the kitchen light, and the two lamps.

Making his way back to the couch, he scooped up the digital clock. He sat down close enough to her that he could feel her next to him, and turned to face her. He held up the clock, flipped the little LCD button for some light, and set it for seven minutes. When he switched off the light it was dark enough that he could just barely make out the outline of her body across from him.

"Okay, so rules. Our party is over. We're sort of bored. Normally you role dice to see who goes into the closet, but since there are just the two of us I think we can dispense with that. We have seven minutes to do… well… whatever. Some people get right to the making out. I always played it that you had Truth or Dare in the closet. But, since this is your first time, I'll let you pick."

"Wh-wh-wh….?" Betty stuttered.

Daniel began to blush and forced his voice to be both nonchalant and teasing. He was glad she couldn't see him because he likely looked scared to death. "Oh, it's just a bit of fun. Don't worry about it. You don't have to rush home and write in your dream journal about how awesome I am or anything. Whatever happens here stays here. Like Vegas, only with less strippers. Okay?"

He heard Betty snort. "Okay," she acknowledged.

"Ready? You're sure this is okay?"

"I guess…yeah." Her voice changed to a more confidant tone. "Yes, It's fine."

Daniel set the timer and cleared his throat. He knew she was going to ask for a "Truth", and he wanted to come up with something good.

"Okay, truth or dare."

Daniel almost fell off the couch when he heard the whispered… "Dare."

His mouth fell open. He made a fist and pumped it, inwardly going _Yesssssss!_ Yeah, he was definitely glad it was dark. Some suave mature guy he was. "Okay, I dare you to kiss me, without opening your mouth. Also no hands. I'm shy you know."

He heard the snort again. Daniel worked at his lip with his teeth. Was this wrong? Would she do it?

He heard some rustling and something soft bumped against the high part of his cheekbone, near his eye. Just a whisper of feeling, but he could feel her body heat and oh God, she was moving her lips with tiny little kisses down his cheek. She kissed his chin, the corner of his neck, then moved to the other side and just dropped soft little kisses randomly over his face. Daniel sighed as he enjoyed the feeling. His eyelids, forehead, the corner of his lips, his nose, cheeks, neck… everywhere but his lips. They tingled. He had never wanted someone to kiss him so badly. But she did exactly as he dared her to- not opening her mouth, or touching him anywhere. It was erotic in a strange way, like foreplay. He kept trying to anticipate where her lips would land next. She was teasing him- well that or punishing him for starting this absurd game. He wasn't entirely sure and didn't care one iota.

When the timer beeped, Daniel exhaled, not moving as she settled back over on "her" side of the couch. It was as though the seam of the two cushions was some sort of barrier, and both regressed back to staying on "their" side of the sofa.

He had to clear his throat twice to be able to talk. "Okay. Dare completed. Um… Your turn."

"What happens if you don't complete the dare? Or if you tell a lie?"

"Uh…. "Traditionally you would forfeit a piece of clothing, but he wasn't sure if he could handle that. Sitting in the dark with a fully clothed Betty playing a silly game was one thing. Sitting in the dark with a nearly naked Betty was completely different. "Um, you get a penalty. You have to run around the room." He could have whacked his forehead into his palm for saying something so stupid. Run around the room?

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I think you just told a fib there, Mr. Meade."

Daniel was suddenly hot… then cold… then his skin felt too tight. The mocking tone of her voice sounded extremely sexy.

"Well, maybe. Um. In school you always had to take off something. ." What was wrong with him? He had regressed to being 13 again!

"Hmm. Okay so… what are you taking off? Your shirt? It's not nice to tell lies you know."

Daniel nodded dumbly, and then realizing that she couldn't see him nodding, slipped the sling off his neck and arm. Then he took off his shirt. He threw it in the direction of his bedroom. Where had this confident-sounding Betty come from? She was teasing and funny, not the self-deprecating humor of before.

"Alright, Daniel. Truth… or Dare."

"Uh… Truth."

He could almost hear her smiling in the darkness. "Truth? Hm.. okay. What's your favorite thing to do when you have sex?"

Daniel's mouth fell open again. What had that Henry guy been _think_ ing? He had had this sexy, teasing, sensuous woman all to himself and left the state? What an _idiot!_

"Hmm. I don't know if I have one thing that's my favorite. I think that just about everything that feels good is okay."

"Gee, way to narrow it down."

Daniel imagined that she was rolling her eyes, and decided that he could give her back a little of the teasing without her running screaming to the ACLU board.

"It's hard to narrow it down. But… I think that my favorite thing…" His voice lowered and he leaned in a little closer to her, careful not to touch anything of hers with anything of his. "…is when I can spend hours with her. Mapping her body. Finding each one of her erogenous spots with my hands… or my lips… or my tongue. I don't leave any inch of her untouched." He paused for a second, listening to the way that her breathing had sped up just a touch. "I spend a longer time on certain… parts…. More than others, of course. I just listen for the gasps in the darkness, or the moans, or those…breathy… little… sounds…." He trailed off. He heard her gulp in the darkness and smirked, sitting back. In a completely normal voice, he said, "My turn!"

There was silence.

"Truth or dare, Betty."

"Truth." Her voice was a little hoarser this time around, and if Daniel could have patted himself on the back, without hurting his shoulder, he would have. He loved that his words could turn her on.

"Hmmm." Daniel thought for a moment. He wasn't so selfish that he wanted to ask her something that would hurt her- and anything having to do with their kidnapping was completely off limits. Not to mention one helluva mood killer. "Tell me about the first time you had sex."

"Oh… it was…pretty special. Let's see. It was my eighteenth birthday. And Walter had booked a hotel room for us. He took me to dinner and when he took me back to the hotel it was all candlelight on every surface and roses petals over the bed. We were both so nervous, but we had talked about it beforehand of course, and he was very patient and sweet. It hurt a little and at the time I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Cuddling was really nice, and being with him was wonderful, but he… I mean, I didn't… um. But we got better at it with practice." Daniel felt an urge to hit something when he heard the reminiscing tone of her words. He always thought of Walter as sort of a schmuck, and the fact that he had been a good boyfriend made Daniel feel… decidedly odd feelings that he wasn't keen on examining too closely.

"Okay so… um. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare." Daniel reached out in the darkness and handed her the timer. She jumped a little when his fingers found hers, but caught on quickly. "You just push that button right there. Seven minutes."

"I… I dare you to kiss me."

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few edits made since first posting in 2008. Not too many.

_"I… I dare you to kiss me."_

Daniel blinked twice before he could move. Betty's dare hung in the room for a moment before he got over his astonishment enough to move. Her words weren't a shock, exactly, but… _God_ … His whole body clenched with want.

He'd heard her indrawn breath as she had started to speak, and realized that he had waited just a shade too long.. He knew her, knew Betty's insecurities and by not responding right away was worried that he might have offended her. Daniel lunged forward somewhat gracelessly and brushed his lips against her face. Unfortunately, he could tell right away that he had missed her lips in the darkness. His mouth had landed at the corner of her jaw. Daniel turned the brush of lips into a slight open mouthed kiss, flicking his tongue lightly against the corner of her neck and jaw. She heard the words she had sucked in breath to say expelled in a long _woooosh_ of breath. Daniel breathed in the scent of her hair. Vanilla. It wasn't the soap in his bathroom at all but her own shampoo or lotion…

His lips traveled up to her earlobe. He flicked his tongue against the fleshy part, halting his breathing so that it didn't sound like he was breathing heavily. There was a trick to kissing someone's ear, one that Daniel had perfected over time. He reached out and touched the back of her head, turning it so that his next kiss landed directly on her lips.

Betty's lips met his eagerly; mouths opening; tongues intertwining. Daniel's heartbeat increased at her eagerness. It was one thing to worry that he was moving too fast, but when she showed that she was into him, he couldn't help the little thrill of excitement. He sucked on her tongue, flicked his own around the inner recesses of her mouth, smiling inwardly at the feel of her braces. Daniel sipped from her lips, pulling away briefly to breathe. Even then he couldn't stop kissing her, dropping small kisses down her jaw line and over her neck. When his lips met the collar of her shirt, he moved back to her lips. He could feel her pulse rocketing against his tongue. Daniel could taste the light saltiness of her skin as he flicked his tongue against her flesh, sucking a little bit on her clavicle. The kiss was passionate, but there was an underlying sweetness to it that Daniel wasn't ready to really stop and identify. He didn't want to just take… he wanted to _linger._

His hands anchored in that lovely hair, one hand holding the back of her head with the other cupping the side of her face. When the beeper sounded, it shocked him, so immersed was he in their kisses that he had actually forgotten where they were and the circumstances that had gotten them together in the first place. He jumped back onto his side of the couch as if yanked there. Daniel cleared his throat. Words completely deserted him. He was astounded by the trepidation he felt. Would she be offended? Slap him? Stalk out of the apartment? He'd witnessed Betty in a temper before, and the results were not pretty. But…he didn't want to stop- he wanted to touch and be touched… to kiss and be kissed... to explore this passionate, sensuous teasing ….

Time seemed to stretch while Daniel struggled with what he wanted to do, and  with what he knew he should do. He barely noticed when the incessant _beepbeep beepbeep_ of the alarm stopped.

When Betty's hands touched lightly onto his shoulders, strangely cold against the heat of his body, Daniel couldn't help the moan that left his throat. He moved forward, just as she moved to meet him, and their mouths met once again in a torrent of heat and delight. Daniel fell back against the arm of his couch, turning his body so that she fell on top of him, stretching his legs out so that she was nestled against his hardness. He heard the timer clank to the floor, but was beyond caring.

Her hands roamed over his chest, and Daniel had to stop kissing for a moment to gasp in air that had suddenly left his lungs. He groaned as her nails lightly scored over his breastbone, over his nipples, pectorals and down to his stomach. He felt the small protuberances harden at the slight scraping friction. For a moment his heart fluttered, but her stroke moved back up to his shoulders, this time rubbing with the palm of her hands, fingers trailing over his heated chest. Daniel knew that he was sweating just slightly and was fleetingly embarrassed to realize that he had tightened his rear end so that he thrust up just slightly, pressing his cloth-covered erection into the core of her body

When she moved so that her lips left his, it was Daniel's turn to suck in breath. He knew what she was going to do about three seconds before she did it. Her mouth closed over the dimple in his chin, He felt her teeth scrape just slightly, and then her tongue flick over the skin there. Her mouth moved down his neck, she sucked gently on his Adam's apple, and Daniel moaned again, hands clenching n her hair. His left hand moved down over her shoulder and rested there, gripping just slightly enough. Her mouth moved down over his sternum, over his collarbone, tongue and lips and Daniel couldn't believe that this was Betty, that he was with her and things were moving so quickly and….

Then he forgot to breathe. Her hands rested on his thighs, thumbs just barely rubbing in small circles over him. He could actually feel himself getting harder under the gentle circular motions of her thumbs. The tips of her fingers were just barely curled over the waistband of his shorts, making flirty little scratches against his stomach.

"Betty…" He gasped. _Shut up! Shut the fuck up!_ His mind babbled.

"Hmmm?"

Daniel's eyes crossed as her felt her breath puff against the small expanse of his stomach under his navel.

"Betty?" he tried again, cringing as the words left his mouth seemingly of their own volition and a good octave higher than his normal voice. _Oh for the love of Christ, shut UP Meade. Don't say anything. Don't ruin this. God, shut up…._ "Are… are you sure about this?"

Two seconds went by. Then ten more. Daniel's heart was beating so hard in his chest he could hear it in his ears.

Betty's fingers flexed in the waistband of his shorts and slowly tugged them down over his legs. Daniel bit his lip as his hard length caught on the waistband then bobbed free as she yanked the shorts down.

He got goose bumps when he heard her laugh, a sly little chuckle deep in her throat.

"Daniel…" Betty said, her breath puffing against him. Daniel sucked in more air when her clever little fingers wrapped around him and began sliding over the velvety heat she found there. Her movements, shy and uncertain, were at odds with her sudden aggressive attitude "Y-yeah..?" He said on a shaky breath.

"You really are so…" Her hand tightened. "Amazingly….." He felt the slightest hint of a brush of lips against the very head of his cock. "Beautiful…" Her breath was hot, but the humidity of her mouth made him yell out in surprise. Her lips moved down just a fraction of an inch, and her hand moved up and Daniel thought the top of his head was going to fly off. He felt the shy swipe of her tongue around the slick head, experimenting with the bit of fluid that had gathered there. Her fingers tightened, pulling the skin down, moving down to the base and her mouth followed. She sucked hard and moved over him, alternating between sucking and just sort of lapping and Daniel made a kind of whining yip of sound, feeling the skin on his balls tighten and shifted his body so that he fell out of her mouth with a wet _pop_ of sound. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this turned on so very quickly, and absolutely refused to end the festivities by coming too soon. Which he would if she … if _Betty_ (and part of him still couldn't believe this was happening, that it was _his_ Betty that was turning him into a quivering pile of pathetic neediness) continued her ministrations.

Daniel turned, pulling and flipping Betty so that she was under him. His shaking hands were on the buttons of her blouse, trying to unbutton them as quickly as he could. He heard her laugh a little and help him. Finally he was able to open the panels of her shirt and let out a little growl of frustration because he couldn't see her. He wanted to see her - her face; her body; and the inky blackness of the room prevented that

"Don't move." He whispered softly. "I'm just going to... open the blinds a little. I'll be right back." When Daniel got up to walk to the window, he stumbled inelegantly on his shorts and boxers, still tangled around his ankles. He blushed furiously, glad that she couldn't see him, and kicked them off.

"Not too much."

Betty's whisper was faint enough to give him pause, and instead of throwing open the over drape blackout curtain; he just opened them about a foot apart, letting in a silvery stream of moonlight to the room. Daniel turned to look back at the couch. He blinked as his eyes adjusted. She lay sprawled where he had left her, hair mussed, mouth swollen slightly from all of the kissing. Her shirt was open, and as Daniel walked back to the couch, he could see the white lace of her bra shining in the moonlight. She was breathing hard enough that Daniel could tell that she was turned on. He strode towards her, knowing how he must look with just a little bit of light illuminating him. He stopped before Betty and held out his hand.

"Come to bed?" He had tried to sound confident and sexy, but was afraid she heard the wobble in his voice. Daniel practically held his breath until he saw her smile flash bright in the semi-darkness; her own trembling hand slide into his.

Once she was standing, he deftly maneuvered her around the mess of pizza boxes and their rubbish from the evening. He even made it as far as the hall, before using her hand to yank her to him, lips meeting hers again in a searing kiss that started out hot, and ended up with her moaning in his arms as he pushed her up against the wall.

God, he could kiss her fo _r hours._

He helped her shrug off her shirt, and mouthed over the cups of her bra. It was still fairly dark in the little hallway, but the ghostly whiteness of the lace caught what little light there was. He could feel the hard little peaks of her nipples and sucked, wetting the fabric and alternating rubbing his chin against them. Daniel moved from breast to breast, loving listening to the sound of Betty's choppy breath and knowing that he was the one that was making her cry out. He had to touch her. Daniel moved his hand over her back, and not feeling a clasp, could have cheered with delight. The bra opened in the front and Daniel made short work of the little plastic clasp, wasting no time getting his mouth on her without the cloth barrier between them. He slowed down, licking around the areola, flicking the very tip of his tongue against her. Ignoring her nipples completely, he brought his hands up to the round flesh, lightly stroking down, and around the sides, wanting to be able to recognize her softness in the dark.

Betty pulled his mouth up to hers, and surprised him by nipping at his lip, then soothing it with her tongue.

 _Interesting._ Daniel grinned to himself.

Betty's hand closed around his hardness again, and Daniel had to move his hips away from her. But her message was clear.

"Betty- I…" He started to talk, only to trail off, not knowing what on earth to say. All his experience with women, all his glibness and poignancy deserted him completely.

Betty held her hand up to his mouth to forestall his words. She kissed his chest, and stood up on her tiptoes to touch his shoulder.

"Don't worry about anything Daniel. It's…okay." Betty's whisper seemed to float up out of the darkness.

"Okay then. C'mere."

In the bedroom, the blinds were open to the beautiful city skyline. Manhattan folded out below and across from them, seeming to spread out in all directions.

Not that either of the room's occupants noticed. If they had, they certainly would have noticed the windowasher apparatus just below Daniel's floor. Had they noticed that, they certainly would have noticed the lone figure crouching there… and his camera.

Daniel and Betty kissed, walking backwards towards the bed. He was shocked when Betty gave his shoulders a little push and he fell back onto the bed with a little giggle of nervous energy- an extremely unmanly giggle that caused Betty's smile to flash in the darkness. All traces of laughter left him as he watched her strip off the rest of her clothing. She stood there for a moment, looking shyly down at her feet, and when Daniel propped himself up on his elbows, reaching out his uninjured arm, she smiled.

Daniel was shocked to find her so... well… aggressive. Actually, she had sort of always been rather goal-oriented, but he couldn't quite put a finger on the way she was acting. The thought niggled at him, then when she tossed the long curtain of her hair over her shoulder and took his hand it too floated away. Along with all other thought. He was able to reach her breasts with his mouth, and stroked his hands down her torso while he laved them again. It turned him on to see the little trail of wetness he left from his saliva.

They were turned on the bed so that they lay sideways. Daniel sat up so that he faced her, side to side, and watched his hand as it stroked over her stomach, over her belly button, and down to the springy curls there. He could smell her musky scent and his mouth watered. Daniel's fingertips stroked down over her pubis, and smiled a little as her legs opened for him.

"Daniel… don't… don't tease. Please. I want… I… _oh!_ Betty gave a little scream of surprise as he entered her with his finger and a throaty moan when the next finger joined the first.

She was slick with her own juices, so slippery that Daniel could feel his own pre-cum leak out of his heavy cock in response. He made to move over her and was utterly shocked when the breathy little moans turned to something completely different.

"No!"

Daniel froze in the process of moving up her body, blue eyes almost comically wide in shock.

"I… I want to… I mean I…" But Betty couldn't seem to get the words out. Daniel allowed her to push him over onto his back. She threw her leg over him, but Daniel stalled her with his hands on her hips.

"Beh-" He was only able to get the first syllable of her name out, before he saw her shake her head in denial. Daniel felt her cool hands on his cock, felt her weight shift as she guided him so that he bumped up against her entrance.

"It's okay.. I just wanted.." Well what she wanted was obvious. Feeling somewhat as though he had missed something really important, Daniel gave into the sensation of her hands as she gave him a small squeeze as though to emphasize her point. Then his hands were sliding over her butt, and thighs, back up to her hips.

Their eyes met, locked on each other's as she thrust down onto him, impaling herself to the hilt. They both cried out at the sensation of her tight, slick walls closing around him and the steely, velvety hardness of him- all the sensations merging together in a kaleidoscope of sensation.

Then Daniel started to thrust, gritting his teeth to try not to come right away, shamed that all his "experience" seemed to have left him. Betty was beautiful above him, her head thrown back, hands clamped around his forearms for balance, nails digging faintly into his skin. Her hair tickled his thighs, She moved on top of him, mouth open in a little 'o' of shock, lost in the sensations. Daniel pulled her so that he was supporting all her weight, her hair falling all around his face, knowing that that position caused friction against her clitoris, desperate for her to enjoy herself. He thrust once, twice, harder and harder, her gasps and his grunts echoing in the silent room.

When he felt her start to come apart, he cried out something-garbled words that he would later never remember. His eyes closed of their own volition, and he could see bursts of light like lightning behind his closed eyelids. Daniel was lost in the feelings, the scent of her hair, the smells of sex and fresh sweat. He was only conscious of one hand on her hip, one in that glorious hair, anchoring her to him as he lost all control.

He lay there for a moment, feeling her heart thundering against his in matching rhythm. Daniel couldn't speak from the sudden lump in his throat. He could only kiss her temple, and shift so that he could hold her while she fell asleep.

When he woke again, sometime later… she was gone.

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

Daniel's alarm startled him out of a very lovely dream. The dream shattered, as dreams often do, upon waking and Daniel sat straight up in bed surprised out of his deep sleep. He had a fleeting impression of long silken hair and skin sliding against skin. He stretched, yawning. Then the previous night's festivities came back to him in one rush of erotic memory. Daniel looked down at himself ruefully. Then the reason for everything occurred to his sleep-deprived brain. He and Betty...! Daniel turned his neck to look to the other side of the bed so quickly that he was surprised that he didn't give himself whiplash. The pillow was rumpled, as were the dove-grey pinstriped sheets, but no tousle-headed Betty slept besides him. He was alone.

 _Must be in the shower_ he thought, throwing back the duvet and scrubbing his hand through his hair. Daniel was in a rather chipper mood. Last night… well. It had been amazing. Betty was amazing. Daniel couldn't imagine not being with her. _After so long, and we're so close, and now so much closer…._ It seemed as though the while of the rest of his life was opening up in front of him. He could tell that she wasn't in his bathroom, so he padded barefoot towards the guest bathroom. Weird. She wasn't there either.

"Betty?" He called out, expecting her to be in his kitchen cooking. Because really, his apartment wasn't all that big. Unless she was going to jump out of a closet or something, there really wasn't anywhere else to go.

He came out of the hallway and stopped dead. His wide blue eyes traveled slowly over his living room - which had been straightened up neatly. The soda and alcohol were lined up neatly on the breakfast nook, pizza box stacked besides them. Not a crumb was on the coffee table, not a streak on the surface to show their dinner from the night before. The couch was neatly put together with his clothes folded- _folded!_ -on the arm.

It was like last night had never happened.

Daniel felt his heart drop to his stomach; every insecurity he had ever had about crossing that last step with Betty seemed to jockey for position in his stomach. Panic took over and he whirled on his heel to go back to the bedroom. Absurdly, he checked in the tub behind the shower curtain. Betty wasn't there of course. Daniel walked quickly to his dresser, looking for his iPhone. He thumbed through quickly but knew… just _knew_ that there wouldn't be a message. No new texts or calls either.

"FUCK!"

His first instinct was to throw the phone across the room. He sat down on the edge of his bed, completely dejected. Daniel was surprised to feel the prickle of tears behind his eyes. Hell, he hadn't cried since Alexis hugged him goodbye, and even that was more a manful sniffle than actual tears.

Daniel cradled the phone in his hands, still almost too astounded to think, slouched on the bed. Maybe… maybe there was nothing wrong? Maybe she just had to go get ready for work. Maybe she just didn't charge her cell phone and it was dead. She had gone down the street to the bakery for breakfast. Yeah, surely it was something like that. Betty wouldn't just spend most of the night with him and then walk off into the sunset. That was something that was more _his_ style, not his assistant's. Daniel looked down at his phone. It was one thing to tell himself that this was all a mistake, but in actuality he was still sitting here alone in his room staring at his phone. It was hard to try to convince himself that this was just a misunderstanding.

He sighed. It was still early yet; maybe she just hadn't gotten around to calling him. He would go take a shower and then just call her if there was no message or anything. No biggie.

But he showered with the phone besides him on the sink so that he could hear it if it were to ring. He even jacked up the sound of the ring so that he would be sure to hear it over the sound of the water.

The ball of nervousness in his stomach grew more pronounced as he toweled off after his shower. Daniel shaved, brushed his teeth, did his hair, then got dressed, each time ferrying the phone with him to each new location.

Damnit. Damnit! Daniel took his battery out of his phone and then replaced it, powering it on with a grimace at the phone taking so long. He found himself worrying the flesh of his lower lip with his teeth. He called downstairs to let his driver know that he would be ready in ten minutes, more to check that his phone worked than because he actually gave a shit about who was driving him where at that point, but the result was the same. Phone working fine - no communication from Betty.

 _Fuck_.

Daniel grabbed his coat and briefcase and chose to sprint downstairs rather than take the elevator. The car was there of course, just as he ordered. Daniel gritted his teeth in something resembling a smile to the chauffeur and slid across the leather seat. He took a deep breath and texted her before he could change his mind. Call it cowardice, but if he called her and she didn't answer Daniel was afraid that he might not recover. He was just so confused!

_Hey. Missed you this am. Hope everything's ok. On my way in- do you need anything to eat?_

He sighed and hit send almost before he had added the last punctuation mark. The driver had said good morning to him but could have just called him a monkey-butted douchebag for all Daniel noticed. He was completely oblivious to anything except for the screen of his phone. The heel of his foot was jumping up and down as he waited impatiently for Betty's return text.

He was almost at the office before his iPhone chimed. Daniel had forgotten that he had turned the volume up while getting ready earlier in the morning and almost wet himself in shock. He looked up at the driver sheepishly who met his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"We're almost there, Mr. Meade."

Daniel nodded as the flood of butterflies in his stomach played hopscotch with one another. His thumb pushed 'okay' and the text came up.

_Media all set. Everything's fine. Cya at 11._

His eyes shut but the readout still swam behind his closed eyelids as though burned there. He could feel himself paling. Betty's text was… abrupt. Almost terse. Everything's fine…? After a night like that? Not that Daniel was looking for some sort of confirmation of his sexual prowess, but he couldn't understand why Betty didn't want to express some of the joy that he had felt upon waking. 'Fine' didn't seem to express that.

**_Fuck._ **

"Uh-Oh…" The driver's words didn't jar Daniel out of his disbelieving stupor, but the town car slowing before it got to the Meade building certainly did. He looked up through the windows, momentarily distracted. Cameras were flashing, the bright lights popping all over the place. The car was unable to go through the garage and moved at a crawl through the assembled media; having to wait as the more adventurous got out of the way of the black vehicle. Daniel's eyes narrowed. He was so not in the mood to deal with this shit right now. He wanted to see Betty. He wanted to find out what the hell was going on. That was it. Barring either of those, he wanted alcohol.

He glared at a blonde woman who was bonking her microphone against the window as though she could hear him through it. Daniel was fleetingly glad for the tinting on the window as he made a rude hand gesture at the stupid bint. He was not happy.

Daniel noticed for the first time that the driver had picked up a phone and was talking heatedly into it. He hung up and turned to face Daniel. The man was older and had a face that looked like a hounddog.

"Mr. Meade, I've called security. They said that they just showed up within the last fifteen minutes. Some people will be down here in a moment to escort you to your building. And the cops to move 'em back. Stupid bastards. How they gonna bug you like that on your first day back?" The man looked disgusted.

"Thank you." Daniel was appreciative of the man's efforts on his behalf, but sitting in the car while security fought their way to the town car just allowed him to brood over everything that he'd managed to screw up in such a short amount of time.

Eventually though, he saw the security people coming towards his car door. The driver unlocked the door about a nanosecond before a huge, burly looking man opened it, using his body to push back the surging reporters. Daniel forced his face into a façade that showed nothing of his inner turmoil and made it into the building without injury, simply ignoring all the questions screamed at him. It wasn't too hard since everything just sort of sounded like a cacophony of sound anyway.

Daniel made it to his office on auto-pilot, feeling a sharp pang of disappointment as he saw that Betty's desk was unoccupied. Her chair was pushed in, no jacket over the back of the backrest. A quick glance confirmed that her computer was off. Inside his own office, he pulled his blinds, not wanting to be in a fishbowl for once. Usually he could ignore the feeling of being watched but didn't think he could handle that today. Hs emotions were too raw.

Daniel threw himself on the couch. Usually when he had a problem, the person he went to for advice or just to talk about it was Betty. It absolutely broke his heart that he couldn't go to her now. Daniel didn't even care if he was being melodramatic. He felt hollow- like he had been scooped out. 

He couldn't have said how long he sat there, thinking about last night, and worrying over this morning. He ignored the two knocks at his door - discerning through the blinds that it wasn't Betty- and he didn't care whoever the hell else it was at the door. They could go fuck themselves.

He had tried to call her to try to talk… but she hadn't answered her phone. Daniel had felt like an idiot leaving a voicemail so had just hung up, the whole incident making him feel more dejected than before.

Finally his mother knocked on his office door, then opened it and walked in. She used to do the same thing on his bedroom door at home which usually sent him scurrying under the covers. (Once, he had been smoking a joint and had dived under the covers rather than pitch it out of the window. Daniel had thought that there was no way that she would notice. Claire had calmly related the message she had to say and then admonished him not to burn the house down by smoking under the covers. Later that same year he had had to fling the covers over a girl who was sprawled on his bed. He had been kneeling on the floor, and had tried to make it look like he had lost something, patting around on the carpet when his mother had barged in. It was only after Claire had left that Daniel had realized that the girl's feet, shorts and panties around her ankles had been fully visible to his mother from where she walked into his room.)

"Daniel, Wilhelmina sent Marc around, but since you didn't… what's wrong?" Her voice had sharpened on the last word as she saw her offspring lying sprawled on the couch with his forearm over his eyes, shoes kicked off and tie undone.

Daniel moved his arm. All at once he desperately wanted to tell her what was wrong, but felt such shame and confusion over the whole mess. Or was it a mess? Was it a misunderstanding? _Where was Betty?_?

"Oh, just not feeling well Mom. Sorry. What time is it?"

"Almost eleven. Come on, everyone's there waiting for you."

Daniel's heart gave a traitorous thump in its chest. "Oh, everyone's there?" He tried very hard not to put any untoward emphasis on the word 'everyone', knowing his mother's eerie ability to zero in on any nuance of any conversation. "Sorry about that. I guess time got away from me."

"Hm. Yes, everyone's there. Well, I think Betty volunteered to go for bagels, but she should be back any time. Why?" Claire's voice had sharpened on the last question.

Daniel smiled benignly. "Oh no reason. Here, let me get my tie fixed. I'll be right there, okay?"

Claire inwardly was raising an eyebrow. She wasn't sure who Daniel thought he was fooling, but she could go along with things for now.

"Absolutely. Goodbye darling." And she left, making her way to the conference table that awaited her.

He wasn't sure if he was feeling elation that Betty was actually in the building, or abject depression that she had been in the building this whole time. Was she avoiding him? Why? Well, okay he knew why, but.... damn.  _Damn._

Daniel entered the room a few minutes after Claire and moved to what was traditionally 'his' spot. There weren't many people in the room. Wilhelmina, Marc, his lawyer, his mother, his mother's lawyers and Daniel were the only ones present.

"Sorry that I was late. Thank you all for coming." He smiled and gestured to his mother. His throat was strangely dry. He had anticipated seeing her in the hallway and as a result had almost knocked over some poor copyeditor while craning his neck around like a giraffe.

Claire, who was no stranger to chairing meetings, smiled back. Her smile was several watts lower than his had been. Since Daniel had been so out of touch, Claire was facilitating the communication between Daniel, the lawyers, and the interests of their company.

Daniel forced his brain to focus on the matter at hand. His personal life could wait. This was his company now and he had to assume his responsibilities.

The lawyer introduced himself again for the assembled staff seated around the table and began by explaining that he was reading from a police report. While Daniel and Betty were gone, Connor had indeed stripped all the Meade accounts. He had embezzled somewhere in the neighborhood of $32 Million dollars.

Marc whistled under his breath, receiving a sharp elbow in his ribs from Wilhelmina for his interruption.

"We have determined two possibilities," Claire broke in, "One is to just declare bankruptcy. We would, of course, most probably have to close all of the magazines. The second possibility isn't… ideal. And you will have to decide which of course. Well, you and Wilhelmina, naturally…" Claire trailed off for a moment looking troubled.

"We'll have to close some magazines right? Oh damn. _Damn_." Daniel pinched the top of his nose, feeling the headache that had been threatening him all day come on full force. Daniel couldn't claim that he knew the faces of all of his employees. Actually he still thought of them as his father's employees, as strange as that was. Certainly not his. Meade Publications had thirty-seven magazines under its umbrella. Several of those were trade magazines, publications that covered specialized or niche markets with relatively low circulation levels. Those would likely have to be dissolved.

The scent of vanilla seemed to surround him for a moment as he sensed Betty standing behind him. It was strangely both subtle and cloying, so focused was he on her presence. Daniel froze for a second in his chair, the scent reminding him of each touch, each whisper and moan from last night.

His conference room, in front of his coworkers and-for-the-love-of _-god_ his mother, was not the place for a raging hard-on. _Get it under control Meade, before the damn thing starts tapping out the Macarena on the bottom of the table!_

"I have bagels!" Betty's chipper voice caused Daniel to look up and watch as she walked around to an empty part of the conference table. His blue eyes met her brown ones. There was a flicker there, something to fleeting for him to be able to read, but her bright smile didn't waver one iota.

Daniel's eyes narrowed slightly.

He continued with his thought out loud, blithely ignoring the muted scramble as people helped themselves to food. "So, what if we were to close the trades? Maybe… go online with some of the more popular ones instead of closing them completely? I just … I just hate to think of that many people out of work."

Surprisingly, it was Wilhelmina who spoke. Her voice was gentle. "Daniel, while the circumstances are not what we wish, this is something that must be done. We'll have to check into the numbers for turning some of the bigger trades into web publications. The one on motor coaches and the cooking magazine for certain." Wilhelmina looked off, lost in thought idly tapping her nails against her chin.

Daniel inhaled deeply when Betty sat down beside him in her customary chair. He could feel her body heat. The vanilla had suddenly enveloped him and he was completely unaware that he had closed his eyes as though he were in pain.

One of the lawyers spoke up. "I'm afraid that might not be enough. Our preliminary numbers show that Meade publications will have to cut twenty-five different publications." He listed them off.

Daniel forgot completely about Betty as he felt the blood drain from his face. "Twenty-five?" he gasped, astounded. He stood up and began to pace around the room, suddenly filled with such nervous energy that he didn't think he could sit still if someone paid him. Which, come to think of it, he might have to do to keep the twelve other magazines afloat.

The lawyer nodded. "Yes, Mr. Meade."

"Well what about my money? My personal money, I mean. I can switch those funds over. Would we still have to fire so many people?"

The lawyer nodded slowly. "Mr. Meade, your mother mentioned that that would be your first question." He smiled un-amused. "Unfortunately no. Your personal wealth, while a valuable resource, will hold over maybe… two? Three at the outset. We will still have to start liquidating what we can. MODE, while a huge drain on resources, but as your flagship publication, still nets quite a profit. Naturally that magazine will be saved, although we recommend down-sizing superfluous personnel. That will get us through the rest of this fiscal year. We will have to re-evaluate based on profit margins at that point."

Daniel turned anguished eyes to his mother's, whose own facial expression across the conference table was almost a mirror to his. "Twenty-two… maybe twenty-three magazines? How could I have been so stupid to trust him Mom?" To Daniel's horror his voice cracked mid sentence. The urge to go to her and have her hug his problems away was great, but he managed to restrain himself.

Embarrassed, Daniel turned away, looking out into the office going on about their business. How many of those employees would he have to lay off? How many kids wouldn't have college funds, or places to live, or food to eat because he had made yet another bad decision to hire Connor? He had thought that he was so clever, playing Wilhelmina in such a way that she agreed to Connor as Meade's Chief Financial Officer as almost her own idea.

Irony was a bitch.

Daniel sighed. Still looking out the mirror, he missed the looks that everyone was darting towards each other. Probably only three of the people present had ever seen Daniel display real emotion. The rest were so used to his "image" that seeing him so upset over this news was somewhat jarring.

"Is that it, then?"

"Yes. I am so very sorry to be the bearer of such horrible news. There are several other details but Ms. Slater and Mrs. Meade have agreed to assist us with those."

Daniel turned around, his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned against the glass wall. "Betty, make sure that I get a copy of everything that's going on. I know between the two of you," He flicked his gaze to Wilhelmina and Claire, "you can handle anything that comes up, but it helps to feel that I'm in the loop." Daniel was so used to asking Betty to do things for him that he was shocked for a moment to realize that he had actually said her name, so focused was he on the business at hand.

"Yes, Daniel." Betty's voice was quiet.

"Okay then. I guess the meeting is over. What time is the media circus scheduled?"

"In about a half an hour." Betty was seated, looking up but off to the side of Daniel's face.

"Excellent. Thanks everyone for coming. Thanks again Marc for getting all this organized." Daniel barely noticed the surprised pleasure on the younger man's face. "Betty, could you stay for just a few minutes? I'd like to talk to you about our press conference."

Daniel couldn't help but feel a savage satisfaction at the way her cheeks paled just slightly. He pushed himself up off of the wall and crossed to the table, sitting beside her in his chair. He waited calmly while everyone exited. Claire was the last to leave, giving both of them a troubled glance before she shut the door firmly behind them. She was quite certain there was something wrong. Daniel was acting as though everything was normal but it wasn't like him to hide out in his office without provocation.

"Actually, Daniel I have a lot of notes to go over and…" Betty made to stand up but Daniel's arm shot out, hand grasping her forearm to stall her movement.

"Wait." Was that his voice that sounded so choked? "Please… Betty. I… I just want to…"

Betty jerked her hand away from his hand as though he had burned her. "Daniel, don't do this. Not right now… we have that press conference. I know I'm handling this badly. Look. It was… a mistake. A fun one to be sure, but it was pretty stupid of me to… of us to… be together like that."

Daniel knew that his mouth was hanging open. He felt utterly gob-smacked.

"I need to go." Betty gasped out the words and stood up so quickly that the chair shot out from under her and bumped against the glass wall of the conference room. She whirled on one heel and left.

Daniel watched her go. He finally managed to close his mouth with a snap. He had heard of people who over-dramatized their heart breaking, and had always sort of snickered at that kind of clinging emotion. Watching Betty walk away from him… no. _Run_ away from him… Daniel suddenly knew exactly how those people had felt. He drew in on himself, settling his head on his arms on the cool glass of the conference table.

Stunned.

From outside of the conference room, seated behind a desk, Claire Meade watched the little drama unfold with troubled eyes.

* * *

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming here. We, Betty and I, wanted to have a forum where you can ask questions and we can report to the public what actually happened. We've chosen each of you to be here because we've had good relationships in the past." He winked. "I would please ask that you remain cognizant of the fact that we have gone through a rather trying experience and act accordingly. If you are too objectionable we will have to have security escort you from the building." Daniel spread his hands and smiled apologetically as though this was the last thing that he ever wanted to do. "I think we'll just start from the right and work our way across the room."

There were some nods and a few smiles.

Daniel and Betty were seated behind a covered table. There were pads of paper on the table, as well as a small flower arrangement, some pens and two glasses of water. The chairs were picked to be extremely comfortable, and as per their plans the room looked as cozy as possible. Betty was seated off and a little behind Daniel's left hand side. Her attention was on her pad of paper and she seemed to be writing something vastly important.

"Okay then. Mr. St. Pierre?"

The smaller man stood. Microphones with their company's names had been set up in front of Betty and Daniel. That was the only thing that made this production obviously an interview and not say, a sales meeting.

"Mr. Meade. Daniel. Can you please explain... well… what happened? We've heard so many stories and so many rumors flying around."

Daniel cleared his throat. "While working late, my assistant and I were kidnapped by four men. We were held hostage but managed to escape into the woods after the driver of the vehicle crashed. Two of our kidnappers were killed, and the other two pursued us into the woods. We managed to find shelter…" Daniel broke off his recitation, surprised at how the rather bland words caused him to remember so much. He remembered how much his hands had hurt after being tied so tightly behind his back, how cold and miserable that night in the tree was. The way Betty had trembled with terror when they heard Chuckles murder the other man. He started to remember the cabin, but ruthlessly shoved those memories to another part of his mind.

Betty spoke up, her voice wavering and nervous with all the attention on her. "After we had rested for awhile in the cabin, we managed to use the boat to escape. That was where… he shot Daniel. Twice. We were only about ten or twenty feet away, and well, when I pulled on him he fell back onto the boat with me. That man… kept shooting but… but we managed to get away. Then…" Her voice trailed off. Daniel could see that she was remembering too. His heart gave a funny little squirm when he saw Betty blink hard a few times so that she wouldn't cry. "Then there was an explosion and we were rescued by the fire people. Daniel was bleeding and unconscious, and there was so much blood…."

Suzuki looked appalled.

"And after?" He spoke gently. Usually in his dealings with Betty he was the picture of dogmatic tenaciousness. Daniel was actually surprised to find himself thawing towards the fashion world reporter who had caused him and his family so much heartache.

"After? I don't really remember very clearly. The doctors said that I had a concussion. I remember waking up in the hospital and going to find Daniel."

There was a beat or two of complete silence. The reporter next to Suzuki St. Pierre coughed discretely into her hand. She looked down at her notebook and back up at the two victims.

"Mr. Meade… Miss. Suarez. Glenda Goodfellow, Manhattan Morning News. How do you think your relationship has changed since your experience?"

Daniel absolutely refused to look at Betty out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't need to think about it. Our relationship has changed, naturally. I don't think you can go through an experience like that without having it change you. Betty saved my li—"

"Yes, yes. But are you romantically involved?" The woman's brash comment earned her quite a few dirty looks from other people in the room. Network news. No finesse. You just didn't bust out a question like that.

Daniel smiled toothily. "Naturally it would be unethical, not to mention unwise to have a romantic relationship with someone that I work so closely with. Next person, please?"

"Miss?" The woman actually leaned forward staring at Betty like a hawk. She ignored Daniel's answer completely.

Betty blinked. "I have no romantic feelings towards Mr. Meade. He saved my life and we work together. I will always be grateful of course, but no. Nothing like what you are asking."

Knowing it--- that hurt. Hearing her say it..... that was agony.

The next reporter spoke up quickly as though to show the assembled media what a 'good' reporter should ask. "Miss Suarez. Thank you so much for your candor. Court records indicate that you have disclosed sexual assault charges against your assailants. Do you care to comment on that?"

Daniel's hand actually moved towards Betty's before he remembered that she wasn't interested in any comfort from him. The movement was negligible, but several sharp eyes in the audience noticed it. Assumptions were made. Jackal-like smiles were seen as a flurry of PDA and Blackberry keys were hit.

Daniel's lawyer stood up from where he had been seated by Claire and Wilhelmina. "Due to the ongoing investigation, Mr. Meade and Ms. Suarez have been advised against commenting on anything that can be misconstrued before a court of law. Thanks for your understanding and cooperation." He sat back down and assumed his attentive, if mildly bored expression.

"Mr. Meade, do you care to comment on Connor Owens' involvement in Meade Publishing?"

Daniel's hand tightened on his water glass. He purposefully took a calming sip to get the volley of less than complementary adjectives under control. He could just see that making it onto Anderson Cooper. There just wasn't a complementary spin to "accented fuckwit."

"My own personal involvement with that man is lamentable. We went to college together and he had turned himself into a financial genius. When Meade Publications started having trouble, I thought that he would make a perfect fit." Daniel allowed his "public" face to slip just a little. The hint of pure rage in his gaze caused the reporter that asked the question to swallow hard. "I take full responsibility for his actions. I… me apologizing to the employees is such a small thing in light of what will happen as our company downsizes. But at the moment it is all I can offer."

"Is it true that you are using your personal funds to subsidize your company's funds?"

"Yes, Mark. It is the very least that I can do. It might be a case of too little too late though, and… well." Daniel stopped for a moment. "We will release a more detailed statement in the future. We have just met to discuss that very subject, and we would of course like to inform the various editors and department heads before we release any information to the media." Daniel forced a very small smile in apology.

The hawk-faced woman broke in again before the next reporter could open his mouth. "Ms. Suarez. Would you care to comment on your personal lawsuit against Daniel Meade? Isn't it true that you plan to seek employment elsewhere?"

Daniel couldn't have heard that right. The water glass slipped from his hand with a small thunk! on to the table. He couldn't help it. All of the little pep talks that he had given himself before the damned press conference flew merrily out the window. Don't show emotion. Work the crowd. Stick to the basic facts. Don't make a complete ass out of yourself. "Wh-wh-what?" He turned to look at Betty, completely dismayed.

You could have heard a pin drop. Not one cell phone chirped, not one person shifted, not one person seemed to breathe too loudly.

"No! Who told you that?" Betty had half stood, furiously staring at the woman who had asked that. "Nothing that happened was Daniel's fault! He had no control over what Connor chose to do for publicity. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. As horrible as everything was, I certainly wouldn't wish it on someone else! And if Daniel had been alone, well. Then…" she trailed off as if just then realizing where she was. Her gaze met Daniel's. "He might be dead."

The woman gave a derisive sniff. "I couldn't reveal my sources. Naturally." The word dripped scorn, as though Betty had said something foul. "So nothing on my other question? I couldn't help but notice that you didn't answer that. Do you plan to leave employment here?"

"I… well, I had thought about… I mean, that is to say…"

The woman's shark-like gaze seemed to zero in on Betty. She smirked. The other reporters, more than aware that whatever drama was playing out here was better than any questions they had amassed, remained quiet. Daniel had the presence of mind to signal security to remove the woman.

Betty's face was tomato red as she remembered what to say when she didn't want to answer a question. She was still sort of half-standing and trying to hide trembling hands by clutching the edge of the table.

"N-no comment… at this time." She almost whispered it.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. Then I don't suppose you'd care to comment on this either?"

The security people had come up behind her. One bulky man placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ma'am. You'll need to come with me; your cameraman too."

The woman jerked her shoulder out of his grasp. Ignoring them completely, she walked towards the table. Daniel, whose mind was frantically circling around whether or not to allow it, decided in that split second that whatever she had to show him would be horrible but even worse if he tried to hide it. He nodded at the burly security guard who stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.

The reporter flung something at the table's occupants.

The photograph drifted down slowly, almost seeming to float as it descended. Daniel and Betty recognized the scene immediately and both fought to keep any expression on their face from showing. Daniel, in one split-second knew that Betty wouldn't be successful at this. To be blunt, she was just not that good a liar.

"OH my GOD!" Daniel exploded.

 _If I give this bitch her show, maybe no one will notice Betty's face._ He clutched the picture to him protectively, jumping up to his feet. He purposefully knocked over Betty's water glass, sending it and the contents cascading down onto Betty's lap. Betty reacted instinctively, jumping back and swiping at her clothes. She turned around, giving her back to the reporters and Daniel breathed a quick sigh of relief as he continued with his charade. "What is it with you people? I'm not allowed to have sex? You have to keep hounding me? Haven't I been through enough? Now you have to flash nude pictures of me as well?" He took a step away from Betty, noticing with one part of his mind that her shoulders were starting to shake. "Jesus Christ! Call one little and then your dangly bits are on display for the whole world to see!" He took a step towards the reporter, holding out the photograph as though it were a weapon. "Where did you get this? How could you?"

"I said that a reporter never reveals her sources. And the public has the right to know!"

"Has the right to know what, that I like to "fuck?" He relished cursing in front of Betty, knowing that the news editors would be scrambling to bleep him during the network delay for the news. "That's it. I tried to be nice and give you people your stories. I tried to be forthcoming about a very personal and horrifying experience. Get out. We're done here." Daniel whirled around and escorted Betty out of the room, down the hall and into his office.

"That's not you." He hissed almost into her face, so furious was he at the situation they now found themselves in. Betty took a step back from him. Her eyes were red. "I don't care what's going on. Hell, I don't even know what is going on! But as far as anyone asks, that is not you in the picture. Lie. Lie very well, because I won't always be there to dump water on you when people shove it under your nose."

There was a perfunctory knock on the door and what looked like half the office came in.

Daniel sighed. It was so simple to backslide back into the "old" Daniel. Oops. Did something naughty. Shame on him. Slap on the wrist and out for that evening's hottest party. He wasn't shocked by the sudden fierce, almost instinctive desire to protect Betty. He'd had it for awhile and acting on it was a relief.

"Well, at least they got my best side." Daniel held up the picture.

And indeed the photographer had. It was clearly Daniel on the bed. He was lying at such an angle that his body was fully visible. All of his body. There was a woman with him. Daniel had his hand grasped in her hair. It was impossible to tell how long it was by the picture, but it was dark, almost inky in the small amount of light in the picture. They looked as though they had just separated from kissing. He had had such a passionate look on his face that seeing it now made Daniel blush. The woman's body was in profile. It was hard to tell her exact features, as Daniel was bent somewhat over her, cradling her head in his hand. The woman's hand was reaching up to touch him, and they had blurred the area around her hand so that it would be suitable to release on network television.

Of course, looking at it, it was screamingly obvious to several of the people in the room who Daniel was with. Betty, Claire and Wilhelmina all carefully avoided looking at each other's eyes, willing to go with Daniel's façade.

"Well shit. Is this kind of thing going to harm our court case?" Daniel asked frankly.

"Mr. Meade, we have to catch the guy first. But this 'sort of thing' doesn't really matter. I will see if we can find out who leaked them to the press though. Defamation of character! Slander!" The lawyer and his cronies left, seemingly excited about the prospect of suing someone.

Daniel forced a grin. "Defamation of character? A nude picture? Does this guy know me at all?" The joke was lame, but it was enough to dispel any awkwardness in the room. Daniel was exhausted and just wanted them gone. He wanted time to process everything that had happened since he opened his eyes that morning.

He kept the false, self-deprecating smirk on his face until the room was empty and then sank gratefully at his desk.

Exhaustion didn't seem to cover it. His head was pounding. He felt nauseated and just wanted to go home. He had had too much to think about, and it came at him way too fast. Daniel sat there for a good ten minutes with his elbows on the desk blotter, his head in his hands. Betty wasn't at her desk, and frankly, Daniel couldn't blame her. He didn't think he was able to deal with the ramifications of that picture hitting the media yet. He was too busy wallowing in self-pity and was honest enough with himself to admit it. Someone had a really rotten sense of humor. Sleep with your assistant? Want to forget about it when she rejects you? Here. Take this pictorial remembrance for the rest of your natural life. Talk about a Kodak moment.

Daniel sighed and reached over to wiggle his mouse. He was sure he had email, even though his mother and Betty had been handling most of it for him. But he was technically at work and supposed he should get some actual work done. He clicked on the icon and was surprised to see 50 different emails from this morning. It was only 12:30! He stared at the headers for a moment until one in particular caught his eye. It was a large file, and sent from… Connor's email address.

**COwens@mode.com: Re: You must see this**

Daniel clicked before he had actually thought all the way around it.

Every drop of blood left his face. He could feel himself growing faint as the video played. His eyes widened in shock and horror; one shaking hand came up to cover his mouth. He watched for a full twenty minutes or so and then pushed away from his desk, stumbling on his own chair and falling to his knees. Daniel grabbed for the trashcan that sat out of the way of foot traffic and curled over it. He hadn't really eaten all day, so crazy had everything been, but he knelt there, helpless as his stomach rebelled against every thought of food he had ever had. He squeezed his eyes tightly against the spasms that racked his body, tears streaming down his face.

The video was of him and Betty making love. Every minute of the time that they had stumbled into the bedroom had been recorded. It was blatantly obvious that the picture that the reporter had had came from this same photographer. You could clearly see both him and Betty, entwined and moving together. It was close enough that you could see the glint of fluid, the play of muscle, the way that muscles strained and moved.

Under the video clip, in the actual email was this message:

_She sure isn't as pretty as you usually take them, but availability counts for something. How much are you willing to pay to keep this just between us? I'll contact you soon with an amount._

_-A Friend._

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Friday Morning**

**A month later…**

Betty sat on the back stoop of her family's house, nursing a root beer and leaning her head against the metal of the stoop. She sighed and took a pull from the bottle. There was still a hint of winter in the late March air, but she didn't move from the darkened stoop as twilight approached. She wore a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt advertising her high school's newspaper club. The shirt was ancient and still well-loved despite its threadbare and holey state. Her feet were in slippers that had Flounder from The Little Mermaid on the top.

No one was home. Hilda and Justin were out shopping at the grocery store and her father was out at his bi-weekly poker game and not expected back for a good two hours. Amanda was at Betty's apartment with Marc having a "make-over" night and Betty was willing to do anything to avoid that. Instead, she was content to come home (funny how even with owning her own apartment this was still home), raid the fridge, and just sit out on the stoop looking out at the onset of darkness. She had been thinking about subletting her apartment. It was a tough call - giving up her independence was not something she wanted to do. It seemed as though she had struggled for so long to get out of her dad's home that the idea that she didn't want to be anywhere else now was somehow ironic.

She had really screwed up _everything._

It had all started with That Night. Even close to a month later, Betty still couldn't believe everything that had happened. She and Daniel had started with such a great friendship. Betty had known that she depended on him and vice versa, but after their ordeal the friendship had evolved. Another nuance had been added - trust. Betty was astounded to find that she could really trust another person who wasn't her family. Even with all the horrible memories she had,, she had come to really believe in Daniel. More importantly, she had felt both honored and singularly special to have earned Daniel's trust. She knew that he didn't trust all that many people.

That Night (as she always seemed to refer to it in her head) had started out innocently enough. Betty had had good intentions- let - let Daniel know she was going to quit MODE. She knew he would be hurt at first, but she also knew she could make him understand. She had been so excited about starting at YETI and it had just seemed like the right time. Then Claire and Wilhelmina had come, and Daniel's world had exploded around him.

She couldn't quit after that.

Then Daniel had started that silly game. She had felt so… touched that he had made the effort. And when the lights were off, it had been so easy to act like the woman she thought Daniel would want: in control and not afraid to take what she wanted. Because really, that was the kind of woman Daniel dated. Not shy, mousy little types like herself. And when their lips had met, Betty had been astounded to find that she wanted to be that 'type' of woman for Daniel. She was even more shocked that after the initial shock of being the aggressor wore off everything seemed to come naturally. Betty wasn't acting; she was just moving on instinct.

When they had kissed in the cabin, Daniel had said something that had niggled at her more than… well…more than it should have.

_"I just don't think this is a good idea…Not that I don't want to. I always want to. And, don't worry… this isn't a big deal. I just… I just think that you should get some sleep."_

He had been referring to them having sex. Betty had analyzed and agonized over every little nuance of those words. He didn't think it was a good idea. Them having sex probably wasn't a good idea at the time. Or did he mean that it wasn't a good idea for them to be together - ever? And of course he always wanted to… but his good sense prevailed. He was Daniel Meade, Mr. Sex Addiction himself. He'd had probably more women at his beck and call than any person in Manhattan. Betty knew; she'd had to screen his phone calls after all. And naturally actually having sex with her wasn't a big deal… only it was. It was a huge deal. To her anyway. The worst thing was that while in the cabin he hadn't even noticed her reaction to his rejection.

But after spending all those nights in the hospital staring up at the ceiling, she had remembered.

Naturally, all that had completely flown out the window when Daniel had dared her to kiss him on his couch. When he didn't seem disgusted or horrified, Betty had pushed. And pushed. Like wiggling a sore tooth, she had to know just how far she could take things before Daniel's good sense called a halt to everything.

Only Daniel's good sense had been beaten into submission by his libido. And then later, everything had just been… amazing.

With Walter and Henry, she hadn't often been the one to initiate sex. She had been just as shy as they were, unconfident with their bodies and unsure about what to do. Cuddling they had down cold, but actual physical intimacy had been kind of… hm. An ongoing lesson. So when Daniel had seemed stunned by her actions - and even now Betty recalled how he had made sure that she was okay with every step before continuing - that itself had been empowering. Betty was happy to discover that she enjoyed sex. She had fun with him… as long as she remembered that "It wasn't a big deal."

And she had remembered - until she woke up.

She had been so warm and replete, that when she blinked open sleepy eyes to see Daniel Meade lying in bed with her, well, she panicked. Light was just barely cresting through the buildings of the skyline but Betty moved as though she had been awake for hours and had already had two cups of coffee. Finding her clothes and cleaning up their mess from last night hadn't taken very long, even with her sore body. She had used muscles that hadn't had all that much of a workout lately, and she felt vaguely sore and achy as she stumbled around his apartment as quietly as she could.

 _Go- get out- don't let him see-_ She had blushed almost violently red as the doorman and security at the front of the building had looked at her hastily dressed self and sniggered good naturedly. Betty thought herself extremely lucky that she had managed to escape his apartment - and that's what it had felt like: an escape; a reprieve - without being detected by the media. But in the light of day she was horrified at the way she acted. Her brain frantically looked for a way to excuse what she had done. Sure there had been alcohol last night, but hardly enough to get either one of them drunk. Daniel had seemed relaxed but hardly inebriated. It had just seemed vital to her to be gone before he woke up and she had to see him realize what a horrible mistake this all was.

No, there certainly wasn't anyone to blame for this. She had been almost embarrassingly needy and Daniel had kissed her... to make her feel better. In the cabin it was after she had told him what had happened in the hotel room while he was passed out. That Night- was after she had told him a little bit about her childhood.

Even now, sitting on her stoop, Betty cringed at how sad and pathetic that made her. Someone to be pitied. It wasn't her that Daniel had been interested in, not really. She had just been there, convenient and willing. Humiliatingly more-than-willing.

She sighed again and finished off her root beer. The Carmichaels on the street across from her were eating dinner and arguing good-naturedly over the supper table. Betty could see them through their back kitchen window.

She shut her eyes. One lone tear ran down the left side of her cheek and lost itself in her hair. She really was pathetic to envy someone else's happiness.

That morning had gone from bad to worse. She had finally made it to her apartment where a shocked Amanda had met her with a catty smile - until Betty had started crying right there in the living room. Amanda had been terrific; helping her to calm down and get a shower. She never asked who had caused Betty such turmoil but had been extremely supportive. In fact, since the whole kidnapping, Amanda had been strangely protective of her. Not even one wardrobe comment crossed her lips. Betty had thought that she might even be in cahoots with her father, double-checking where she was and when she came in. While Betty was blow drying her hair she had seen Amanda staring quite pointedly at a lovebite on Betty's neck. Amanda's hip had shot out; one hand meeting it in a classic 'Amanda Stance,' and her eyes had narrowed in thought. Betty had only turned a very dark shade of red and refused to meet her eyes in the mirror.

Amanda had turned away and busied herself in the kitchen, muttering under her breath about lying bastard men who took advantage of nice people. Betty had just ignored her, refusing to even think about the fact that Amanda might have put two and two together and come up with a very satisfactory four. Even knowing that Daniel had been with her because she had been there and available, Betty felt a strange mixture of nausea and jealousy when she realized that Amanda had also had a physical relationship with Daniel. Which shamed her.

Then – oh god - that day!

How horrible it had been to realize that she had to go into MODE and see Daniel. She had busied herself with every single task she could think of to get her away from Daniel's office. His text message had made her ache. Daniel had been so sweet and casual about picking breakfast up for her. The fact that her stomach was rolling too violently to eat anything had prompted her to text him back just as casually. Betty had been on the phone with CNN for the press conference and had three other calls waiting on her to hang up.

She had come up with the bagel idea on the spur of the moment to get herself out of the conference room. Seeing Daniel sitting there rubbing the top of his nose – he only did that when he had the beginnings of a migraine - had made her heart give a funny little wiggle. When he had shown how worried he was about his employees, Betty had wanted to hug him. He was so strong in there - accepting what had happened and just trying to make the best of an impossible situation.

Then a little later he had just seemed so bewildered. Betty had botched the whole conversation, putting Daniel on the defensive. She had called it a mistake and had expected him to jump on board with that, grateful to have an excuse to spare her feelings. But instead he had seemed hurt. Wounded by her words. The last time she had seen him looking so vulnerable, Sofia had just made a mockery of him on national television for her magazine. Betty had basically run away, escaping to Christina and her supply of chocolate and sympathy.

Then. Daniel had been incredible at the press conference. She was so glad he had taken the reins; Betty had been nervous at the whole setup. All those reporters and cameras had intimidated her.

That Glenda woman had been horrible. Sensing that Betty was the easier prey, she had gone after her with the tenacity of a terrier. And those accusations! Betty was so shocked at the idea that someone would think that she would sue Daniel that she had been unable to really process the enormity of her other question - which had of course been a setup to berate her with that picture.

That _picture…_

Daniel had been like some white knight; a hero in a romance novel. She was so stunned by her glimpse of the picture and at the way Daniel had acted with the water glass that she had had to turn away from the assembled cameras. The strangest urge to giggle had come over her. A strange display of emotions was not unusual. When her mother had passed away her first impulse was to burst into hysterical laughter. This had been like that. Listening to Daniel's tirade and him hustling her out of the press room had been surreal. He had seemed almost feral when he had insisted she lie. Furious. At her? The situation? She had been too stunned to do much more than agree. Betty had taken one look over her shoulder into his office and seen him sitting there with his head in his hands. Guilt and desperation had caused her to almost go back inside, but instead she chose to call it a day.

First day back or not it had completely sucked.

Three weeks later found Betty completely miserable. She had been working like a fiend, keeping busy by taking up some of the slack of other departments. She hadn't really had anything to do with Daniel outside of work. They had tactfully, though without actually saying anything, agreed to just ignore each other. Oh they smiled in the halls, and she still saw him for the better part of every day, but it was as though their relationship had backslid into her first year of working at MODE. She was exhausted. Betty had only managed to not cry herself to sleep by firmly refusing to think about anything that had happened to her in the past month and a half. And if she woke up screaming and sweaty from a nightmare, or restless and wanting from a dream about Daniel, well then it was her own fault.

But, oh, how she missed him.

All work-related problems aside, Betty had had quite a few other things happen in the space of only those few weeks. YETI had been going well. She had met and dated Matt who was very sweet. He made her feel special and she had missed that. The fact that he was wealthy horrified her. Hilda had teased her about finding a guy that was basically "Daniel 2.0 without the great ass," but Betty had been slack-jawed to realize that it was true. Matt did remind her of Daniel.

And that appalled her even more. What kind of a person was she that she would use Matt in such a way? She had practically jumped him… and he turned her down. He had a sex addiction… just like Daniel. He tried to take care of her…

…just like Daniel.

And Matt really seemed to like her. Betty was honest enough with herself to admit that she did like Matt very much, but the fact that he had been with so many people was off-putting. Even though Daniel had been with just as many women, she had had to try to learn how to be sexy with Matt, when with Daniel, she had felt sexy without feeling the need to put on a dog and pony show. When Matt had invited her up to his apartment, she had gone… and then confessed everything to him about Daniel and her feelings and had made such an idiot of herself that she was almost afraid to find out what he thought. Matt had understood. Of course he had understood - he was an extremely nice guy. The rest of the conversation had been somewhat of an eye opener as well.

"It's just worse because I see him every day. I want to quit there, but don't know if I can. Financially, I mean. Especially with Papi's medical problems." Betty held up a hand, "And no, I don't want money. We can handle it."

"Betty- I know that I don't know Daniel nearly as well as you do, but anyone that would willingly take the heat for that picture, take it to protect the person he was with, has to care about that person. I know I've seen more than I ever wanted of Daniel Meade on the internet. Remember when that socialite he was dating- yeah, the married one- leaked those pictures of them together to get back at her husband? Daniel certainly didn't try to protect her like he did with you." Matt looked at her seriously. "Is it possible that... that maybe you're projecting?"

"I know not this therapist speak."

"Hey. Don't joke. She's helped me out a lot. Maybe it is a bit clichéd, but it really is nice to have someone impartial to talk to about all your troubles. I'm hardly impartial in this situation."

Betty had looked up from her tear-stained tissue. "I'm so sorry, Matt. I really do like you."

Matt had smiled back, albeit a little bit sickly. "I know. And if being friends is all we're going to be to each other, then… okay. I'm not completely happy with that, but I'm not going to force things either." He took a deep breath. "Betty, if you care about Daniel as much as I... as much as I think you do… you really need to work this out with him. Soon. Because I don't think it's fair to either of you."

Betty had nodded and they had decided to order some Thai food and eat it there. Matt had even manfully sat through two very silly comedies in an effort to cheer her up. Betty still wasn't sure what the _Pineapple Express_ was, but she had been distracted from her own troubles by all the explosions and fight scenes. Then he had made her sit through _Dogma,_ which she had also never seen. It was filthy, but she had laughed until her sides ached. In fact, she had laughed so hard that she had gotten sick! That had been last Friday and Betty had left his apartment with renewed determination to sit Daniel down and talk everything out.

But she was dreading it. After the Sex Issue had bombed, something that Betty had found dreadfully ironic, Daniel had been distracted and moody at work. She would often find him staring off into space. Once, she had even gone in to say goodnight to him, only to find Daniel stretched out on his couch, with the jacket of his Armani suit balled up under his neck like a pillow. He had dark circles under his eyes and had been unshaven. There had been whispered rumors that he had been out all night partying and was still drunk the next day. He must be dieting again because his face had thin-

A noise from inside her house startled her out of her thoughts.

Betty crinkled her eyebrows. It had sounded like a door banging. Maybe Hilda and Justin were back early? Had her dad forgotten his keys again? She used the banister of the back stoop to haul herself up and made her way through the kitchen. She was able to move through the back door and kitchen silently, years of familiarity with the makeup of her parent's house keeping her moving around darkened obstacles.

Betty stopped short a few steps into the living room. That's strange. The lamp must have burned out. The Suarezes always left a lamp burning so that they wouldn't have to come back to a dark, empty house. She opened her mouth to call out…then some instinct made her freeze. _There was something wrong._ Something was making her senses scream. Betty could feel the hairs on the very back of her neck start to rise as it dawned on her…

She was not alone in the house.

_Run! Go!_

Betty whirled, her heart suddenly in her throat. She took a stumbling step back towards the kitchen but slammed up against something hard. She felt hands close painfully around the tops of her arms. It was terrifying to look up and just see a vague shape in the inky blackness of her living room.

"Hello there…. Betty." A mouth crashed down on hers; a bruising, punishing force, mashing her lips against her braces.

The low, gravelly voice was straight from her nightmares.

Betty would recognize that menacing sound anywhere. Her knees turned weak in response. There was a strange buzzing noise in her head, and all at once she had the urge to vomit. Her heart seemed to slow down and then speed up so fast that the sound thundered in her ears. She felt dizzy. She swayed on her feet, fighting not to pass out.

Chuckles shook her so hard that her teeth rattled. They snapped together on her tongue. It seemed as though everything was happening under water, so fluid and eerie that it seemed surreal. Betty tasted the copper-bright taste of blood as it filled her mouth. Chuckles' hand left her forearm and a split-second later a bright burst of pain exploded on her right temple. Light flooded the room from a small flashlight that he threw down onto the ground.

"Too bad no one's home. We're gonna have us a little party; just you and me. Then I go after your rich-boy boyfriend. Shooting him wasn't… enough!" His words got louder and louder until he was fairly screaming the word 'enough.' He threw Betty down in the general direction of the couch. Still stunned from the blow to her temple, Betty stumbled onto the floor and Chuckles yanked her up by her hair. Shadow and light were playing tricks on her mind. The flashlight that he'd dropped to the ground rolled slightly, so that the beam of light illuminated the small table to her left.

The stained-glass Virgin Mary stood on a little lace doily in the center of the table.

It was as though someone had thrown ice water into her face. She could feel the man behind her; his hands were on her hips in the process of turning her over. Betty kicked out with her slippered foot and threw her head back at the same time. She felt it hit something. Maybe his nose or his mouth, but he surged away from her in shock.

"Bitch!" He snarled, punching her in the middle of her back between her shoulder blades.

She felt his teeth on her shoulder, biting hard enough that she knew there would be a bloody imprint of his teeth on her. Betty didn't waste time screaming. If she didn't get herself out of this then she was going to die. That simple truth spurred her into activity.

He flipped her over onto her back and came down on top of her. Betty saw stars again when he slapped her face. Chuckles was so intent on trying to rip open her Levis that he didn't notice when she flung her arm out, touching the statue with her fingertips. She felt the button loosen and the zipper yanked down. Betty struggled when he pulled her up by the front of her shirt, feeling the seam under her underarm tear. Him pulling her up was just the leverage she needed to grab the statue. Praying that he wouldn't notice the glass flashing in the semi-darkened room, Betty grabbed onto it with both of her hands and sent it crashing down onto his skull.

Sobbing, blood and saliva trailing out of the corner of her mouth, Betty sagged into the couch for a moment when she felt the dead weight that signified that he had lost consciousness. She kicked and pushed him off of her, onto the floor.

It had happened so quickly that she almost hadn't realized that he was there before he was on top of her. Was he…dead? Did she kill him when the glass shattered onto his head? Betty didn't know, and she sure as hell wasn't sticking around to find out. One of her slippers had been lost in the shuffle. Betty kicked the other one off, panic now driving her movements. She took off running into the night.

* * *

 

Daniel was pretty sure he was probably the most pathetic excuse for a human being that had ever been born. He had been dressed and ready to go to a new club that was opening in Soho when he had decided on the spur of the moment that he wanted some pizza. He had been going out for what felt like weeks and was just too damn tired to act like he was having a good time again. Besides, a man didn't argue when the pizza gods struck. But what pizza to get? There were so many varieties, so many flavors to think about and places that he could go. Then the idea had struck him with an almost desperate intensity. He remembered, with his stomach giving a little rumble of hunger and his heart giving a…well a little something that he refused to acknowledge, how much fun he had when he and Betty had gone for pizza.

Actually, thinking about Betty had turned into sort of a constant in his life. The idea that he would be in his car and driving to Queens really didn't faze him. Daniel had found a number of … very pressing… reasons to sort of "lurk" in the area lately. Jackson Heights was a pretty big place, but you never knew who you'd bump into. The sidewalk produce stands were lovely this time of year. Of course, Daniel now had so many vegetables in his refrigerator; his date had assumed he was a vegan. But that was beside the point.

Which naturally made him feel like an idiot. Or a stalker. Or an idiot stalker. But Daniel couldn't shake the idea that he could still fix everything if he could only talk to Betty outside of MODE. He had tried to apologize. This galled him, because he honestly didn't feel that there was anything to apologize for. But he was willing to say anything, eat any amount of crow, do anything that made it so she smiled again when she saw him; not flinch away and remember some menial task that needed finishing, rushing off before he could divert the stale conversation to anything personal.

So driving across the bridge for pizza really wasn't all that weird when you thought about it. Daniel had been too occupied in his own little world to notice the sunset over the river, absently flipping on his headlights when he realized he really couldn't see very well. The night had sort of snuck up on him as he drove, lost in his thoughts.

He found that driving relaxed him. Which given the driving abilities of most of the greater Manhattan area, he reflected wryly, was really saying something about his stress levels. And indeed, the "thing" with Betty seemed to pale in comparison to Daniel's other worries.

Almost three hundred people were laid off at Meade Publishing. Even employees at Mode were told during a meeting that they were pruning people left, right, and center. No one was certain that they would keep their job, and as a result stress levels at work were sky high. Daniel had tried to meet with each person individually to give them the news. Some were grateful for the small attention. Some were angry. Just about everyone was hurt and confused about what they would do without a job. Daniel made it a top priority to write letters of recommendation where he could; often working through lunch or an early dinner at the office to finish them.

Daniel had been too afraid of public exposure to go to the police about the blackmail. He had insisted that Connor's account be dismantled and had waited and watched until the extremely nervous IT guy finished the job. Daniel had gone that day and had it taken care of personally - immediately. The IT guy told him that the password had been accessed from a proxy site usually used by hackers. Daniel was glad that Connor hadn't been the culprit. Somehow thinking that the Australian had done something so horribly personal as to blackmail him was mind-numbing. It was bad enough he was being blackmailed, but thinking that it was someone he had known for over half his life had made him question his own psyche.

To Daniel's chagrin, the blackmailer had just emailed him from a freebie account. The tone of the email was mocking and cruel, as could be expected. The amount was $100,000 and it was to be transferred to an off-shore account in some country Daniel had never heard of. He didn't even know how to go about trying to trace the person through the money and was too afraid to go to the police. He kept Officer Benson's business card in his pocket though. Daniel wasn't sure about her partner, but she seemed like someone who could get things accomplished.

But not yet.

Daniel couldn't help but hope that if he just paid things would eventually stop. That once the blackmailer got enough money from him, he or she would give up.

Which was pretty damn stupid. He knew it was stupid. But…but. What else was he supposed to do?

Daniel was jolted out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone. The ringtone was his mother's idea of a joke. She had downloaded 'Hot Stuff' to play whenever his phone rang. Daniel hadn't known, and was pretty damn embarrassed when, while waiting in line at Starbucks, his phone had rang. He still hadn't been back there for fear of more baristas serenading him

The phone number was unfamiliar. Daniel rolled his eyes. Probably some reporter had gotten his number. That or some girl that he was supposed to meet for drinks. He almost ignored it… but relented at the last minute. He had told some of his ex-employees that they could reach him if they needed to - day or night.

"Daniel Meade," he said brusquely by way of greeting.

"Daniel? Oh. Oh thank God!"

"Betty?" Daniel almost wrecked his car, so surprised was he to hear her voice. There was the sound of breathing on the phone and what sounded suspiciously like a gulped sob. "Betty? Is that you? What's the matter? Are you... crying?"

There was a sniff, then the sound of a nose being blown.

"I think I killed someone," Betty blurted out.

Daniel made the turn to go to Jackson Heights almost before she had gotten the words out.

"Where are you? What happened?" His voice was sharper than he intended. "Betty?"

"I… I don't know. I'm at a gas station. He was… he …"

"He? He who? Wait!" Daniel took a deep breath. They couldn't both be panicking here or all hell would break loose. "Wait. Betty, calm down. Take a deep breath." Daniel took some of his own advice. "I need to know what happened. I'm actually ten minutes away, but you have to calm down enough to tell me where you are."

Betty gave what sounded like a strangled gasp and Daniel heard deep gulping sobs. Then a very shaky breath. And another. It was killing Daniel to be patient. "Good. Good girl. Okay, now. Look around. Do you recognize where you are?"

"Yes. I... of course. I'm at a Shell station. It's um… off of Roosevelt at 82nd, near Junction. Um, there's a fish market next door."

"Excellent. Okay I'm on my way." Daniel braked in traffic and swerved across a lane to get to a left-hand turn off. He didn't know the area very well at all but had a GPS unit that would tell him exactly where to go. He typed in "Shell" and the cross street she had given him, so relieved when his destination came up that he grinned in the darkness.

"Okay. You're doing great. I can be there in ten minutes." Well, the GPS said fourteen, but what the fuck did a computer know? Daniel hit the gas pedal and was off. He listened to Betty trying to get her sobbing under control. The first fissures of panic started to creep in as he listened to her try to get a hold of herself. "Betty?"

"Yeah. I'm here. Someone broke into my house. It was…. It was Chuckles, Daniel."

Daniel had to strain to hear her. His eyes widened and he whipped the steering wheel to the right, blowing by a Taurus innocently going the speed limit. The driver blared her horn and shot him the finger. "Okay. Okay Betty. Oh Jesus. You're in public right? You're by other people?"

There was a particularly pathetic sounding sniff then Betty answered, "Yes. The clerk is letting me use the phone."

"Right. Was anyone else there? Your father? Justin?"

"No-no. I was alone."

Daniel felt the alignment of the little sports car go by the wayside as he rattled over several potholes. He could actually see the bright yellow Shell station sign in the distance. "Alright, honey. I want you to stay right there. I'm almost there, okay?"

He heard some more sniffing and a muffled acknowledgement. She hung up. Daniel called 911 immediately and gave the operator the information that he knew. He gave the address of Ignacio's house and told the woman that there was possibly someone hurt there. Daniel gave him his contact information and told her that he would be with Betty at the gas station.

He also asked that they contact Officer Benson.

Daniel careened into a parking spot and practically strangled himself when he jumped out of his vehicle without undoing his seatbelt. He was running for the doors when he saw Betty come rushing towards him.

Daniel stopped dead in his tracks, completely appalled. His eyes travelled down from her head to her toes, and back up again. There was the beginning of a shiner on her eye, and what looked like a bruise on her temple, although it was hard to see with her hair down. Her glasses had one crack in the left lens. Betty's lips were swollen and red, and there was a swipe of blood on the corner of her mouth. Her shirt was ripped from the sides, and Daniel could see that her jeans were missing a button. She was barefoot, her feet filthy.

He blinked twice, feeling his own eyes become suspiciously wet. Daniel held his arms open, and when Betty ran into them, he closed them tightly around her, too afraid, too _thankful_ to let go.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

Daniel wished that time could have stopped. In that one moment, everything seemed okay. He could feel her heartbeat as he held her, beating against her ribs like a small trapped thing. Her hair smelled just as he remembered.

The moment was broken as an older man pushed rudely by them, muttering under his breath about having them get a room.

Daniel led Betty to the corner of the building so that they would be out of the way from any prying eyes. His eyes took in how Betty clutched her shirt to her front and remembered again how lost she sounded when she confessed, " _Chuckles broke into my house, Daniel_." Why? For what purpose? Why would he come out of... well... hiding to torment her in this way? Daniel saw Betty give a slight shiver and draped his jacket over her shoulders.

It just didn't make any sense. Daniel all at once felt awkward and gauche. Every bit of guilt came flying back to him as he absently patted Betty's shoulder. _This is all your fault. Yours. You are responsible for eve_ —his thought broke off as he heard Betty suck in air sharply through her teeth and jerk away from his hand. The pained sound made his eyes narrow.

"Betty." The one word was somehow an order and a question. Daniel knew that he should be gentle and kind, but the anger that had been simmering under all the bewilderment and hurt was starting to bubble to the surface. When she ducked her head and moved back away from him Daniel felt the tic under his left eye start. He opened his mouth but was cut off by the sound of an ambulance siren.

Daniel supposed it wasn't too difficult to figure out who had needed the ambulance. They were out of the main flow of traffic but the parking lot was well-lit . Plus, other than the guy that had brushed by them, it was fairly empty of vehicles. Nonetheless, he waved half-heartedly at the paramedic; kind of gesturing needlessly at Betty huddled next to him diverted from asking her what specifically was wrong.

The ambulance double parked across two parking spaces, the man and woman jumping out in long-practiced synch with each other. The woman was holding a field kit. Their feet had barely hit the pavement when they were firing questions at Betty.

"Where are you hurt?"

"What happened?"

"Is this man a danger to you?"

"Can you walk or do you need a stretcher?"

Betty looked at Daniel, completely overwhelmed. She blinked up at him and he could see the sheen of tears in her big brown eyes.

He cleared his throat. "She's hurt all over. A man who has hurt both of us previously broke into her home. No, I'm not a danger to her; she called me to come and get her. She can walk to the ambulance but I want her situated and examined at the hospital." He didn't even notice the way the two paramedics looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes as he took charge.

"Betty, I'll have to meet you at the hospital. I want to make sure Officer Benson knows where to go and what to do."

Betty went with the paramedics into the ambulance obviously still in shock. Daniel wanted to ride with her but he was afraid of Ignacio coming home to police at his house, or other uncomfortable situations. As he thought about it, he realized that he was just as much in the dark as Betty's family might be. He really didn't know what had happened either. "Don't worry,Betty. I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay?" He wanted so badly to kiss her. He had even moved forward a little bit to do so, when he remembered everything and sort of backed off. "What hospital?" He asked the female paramedic to Betty's right.

"Saint Sebastian. What's your name sir?"

"Daniel Meade, friend of the family. Hopefully I'll be there within the hour. I'm sure the police will need to talk with me." He smiled absentmindedly, already thinking of things he needed to do. Betty looked bewildered, lost. He reached out, stroked the tangled mess of her hair and shut the ambulance doors.

Betty heard the ambulance doors shut with a slam and all at once seemed to realize where she was and what was going on. It was as though the past fifteen minutes had happened to someone else. Everything since Daniel had held her in the middle of that stupid gas station convenience store up until a few seconds ago was fuzzy- as though it had happened to someone else. She could now remember everything.

_Everything._

She felt her bile rise and clamped her hands over her mouth, wincing at the cut lip. The paramedic, who was obviously used to patients tossing their cookies, reached up into the locking cabinet above her head and handed Betty a stainless steel receptacle completely nonplussed. Betty clutched the sides, idly noting how cold the metal seemed to be as she was sick. Strangely enough, she felt much better afterwards.

The woman gave her a half smile and handed her a napkin. "Sorry that I can't give you anything to wash out your mouth yet. But they will at the hospital." Betty nodded and dabbed at her tongue with the towel, grimacing. "Do you feel like answering some questions?"

To this point the woman had seemed completely businesslike- although kind. Betty warily nodded. She had a headache and could suddenly feel every ache, bump, bruise and twinge on her body.

"Were you raped, ma'am?"

Betty's eyes widened at the blunt question. She shook her head, looking down at her clasped hands. The fact that she had gotten away from Chuckles twice- both times when he had had a specific goal in mind- was not lost on her. The paramedic busied herself with getting rid of Betty's vomit, although some strange detached part of Betty's mind noticed that she disposed of the steel container into a bio-hazard bag.

Evidence, her mind supplied helpfully.

"Can you tell me if you were hurt? This Meade man…?"

"No… it's not what you're thinking. Someone broke into my house. And… attacked me. Then I ran and called Daniel. He's my boyfriend." The word slipped out of her mouth of its own volition. _Boyfriend. Wishful thinking much?_ Betty answered the rest of the questions. Once the paramedic ascertained that she wasn't seriously hurt, she apologized for not putting any sort of antiseptic on Betty's wounds.

"You'd be amazed what they can do with DNA these days. The antiseptic could kill anything they get. Sorry about that. They'll patch you up in the ER. Usually I'm much more helpful. "

The paramedic gave an embarrassed sort of smile. Betty felt the vehicle stop and she was helped out. The paramedics escorted her in, handed the nurse behind the desk some information and left.

Betty huddled in on herself in the uncomfortable emergency room chair. She wanted Daniel. Or her dad. But she didn't want to be here alone.

* * *

Daniel pulled up to Betty's house to see several police cars parked near the brownstone. Neighbors were being kept back and Daniel had a hell of a time getting up to the yellow police tape. He saw Ignacio talking to one officer. The man looked deranged and sick with worry. His hair was standing on end and he had a very un-Ignacio like look on his face. Daniel didn't see Hilda or Justin, and guessed that they were somewhere else in the house.

"Ignacio! Ignacio!" Daniel felt like an idiot for waving his arms and yelling at the distraught man. Some dark emotion flitted over the older man's face as he caught sight of Daniel, then he was speaking to the officer and Daniel was being escorted into the house. Daniel didn't have time to examine the look or worry about what it had meant. "It's Betty. She's okay. She's on her way to the hospital." Ignacio turned very pale. His hand crept up over his heart. " _Gracias a Dios. Oh, gracias por mantener a mi bebé seguro._ " Ignacio whispered the phrase over and over under his breath. Daniel walked with him, reaching out to help him walk up the stooped stairs and into the house. The officer followed along behind them somewhat like a dog, busily writing in his notebook.

"She called me. She's alive and safe, and on her way to the hospital. She told me what happened and I came here to tell you what was going on. I got here too late I guess. Was anyone here when you got here? When did you get home? We can meet her there in a few min-"

Daniel broke off his excited babble completely as he saw the living room. The Suarezes kept their house extremely tidy, if somewhat cluttered. It was jarring to see the cushions off of the couch, strewn onto the floor as though someone had used them as purchase to get away. There was blood on the living room floor and a footprint. Two crime scene techs were busily capturing the bloody footprints and marking them as evidence. Daniel's gaze was caught by some long, black strands of hair near the throw rug. The rug was scrunched up as though it had been kicked and a clump of hair lay besides it, discarded. Betty's hair. Betty's hair was on the floor, thrown there after it had been pulled from her head. Another technician was photographing the room from several angles.

_Her shirt- ripped from the sides down. Her jeans- disheveled and missing the front button._

Daniel thought that his own heart had stopped. He stood there dumbly, staring at that hair on the floor. He heard the low buzz of conversation around him as the officer asked a question and received a response from Betty's father.

_Her shirt- ripped from the sides down. As though someone had grabbed onto the material and tried to control her movement._

Her jeans- disheveled and missing the front button.

Daniel flashed back to that damn cabin in the middle of nowhere as Betty told him what the man- the same man - had done to her. He raised a shaking hand to his eyes and covered them as he remembered the way she had told the story- frightened and haltingly. He remembered snatches of conversation as he lay in his hospital bed zoning in and out on pain medication, "-Nightmares, poor thing. Whatever happened to her, whoever hurt her, really did a number on the poor girl." He remembered how scared she had sounded on the phone , remembered her trembling as she told him what had happened and …

… and was afraid that it had all happened again.

Daniel whirled on one foot and made it to the bathroom just in time.

* * *

It had taken almost an hour for Betty to be escorted into a small examination area. It was just a hospital bed with the curtain pulled for some sort of semblance of privacy. Betty had explained again that she was not raped, but consented to a rape-kit being performed for evidence. She sat dazed as she was administered to.

The doctor looked to be in his mid 40s and exhausted. But his hands were gentle as he swabbed and took samples of her saliva, the bite on her shoulder and a few other bumps and bruises. A nurse drew blood for testing and the doctor asked her several gentle questions, trying to be as non-invasive as possible. He dabbed something strong smelling on her eye, and put a small butterfly bandage over her eyebrow on a cut that she hadn't even noticed. A small piece of the statue that she had defended herself with had become lodged just under her hairline and when it was removed the doctor had to give her two stitches under the bandage. She had also wrenched her back, and numbly took the prescription the doctor wrote her for pain.

Betty was exhausted, answering questions when asked, nodding when she could. She just wanted to go home.

When she walked out of the emergency area and back towards the waiting area she was bemused by the small army of people that jumped up and started towards her. She started at Daniel, seemingly unable to look away as her family surrounded her, hugging her gently and kissing her on the unblemished part of her cheek. There was a woman Betty recognized as Officer Benson and a regular patrolman she didn't recognize standing just behind Daniel. Betty couldn't seem to dredge up any particular emotion. She just stood there while her family cried over her staring at Daniel. He dropped his eyes, looking guilty. The action was odd enough after the way he had taken charge earlier that it jarred Betty. What did he have to look guilty about? Had something else happened?

"Miss Suarez, folks…" Officer Benson broke in gently. "How about we go in here to discuss matters," she said gesturing to the ER's family room, a small waiting area with a closed door. The lights were off and the blinds were drawn. There were two couches and three chairs so it was a rather tight squeeze, but they all seemed to agree that privacy was worth it. Betty sat with Hilda on one side and Daniel on the other. Hilda kept patting her hand. Betty was horribly almost painfully aware of the way that Daniel's warm leg was pressed up against hers.

Officer Benson stood up and cleared her throat as all eyes in the room focused on her. "Betty, we have to stop meeting like this. Don't you ever go to a diner or something?" As jokes went, it was pretty crappy but it did dispel some of the tension in the small room. "If you don't mind, I'm going to record all of this here." She indicated a small digital recorder. She nodded at the other officer who slipped outside of the door, shutting it behind him with a firm click. "Suarez, B. Case number 65293-04-09, 10:45 pm, September 29, 2008. Okay Betty, take us through it slowly." She sat down and smiled kindly at Betty.

Hilda's hand became tighter as she spoke.

Betty took Benson's advice; going through the events of the night slowly enough that she was certain she didn't forget anything. Her voice was low and devoid of emotion. Maybe she'd have a breakdown later, but she was bone-exhausted and her voice reflected that. Besides, if she didn't become emotional then it was easier to pretend that all of this had happened to someone else.

There wasn't a sound in the small room as her voice droned on. Justin was staring at her wide-eyed, tears slowly falling from his eyes. Her father's face kept changing, showing the shock and horror of her words as she filled them in on the events of the night. Officer Benson's face was carefully blank as she described the attack. Hilda had a death-grip on her hand.

Betty was too afraid to look at Daniel. She wanted him to take care of her, needed him to hold her again. She was so ashamed of both of these desires that she made herself stare straight ahead, half afraid that if she looked into his face, she would throw herself at him. At this second she didn't care that he had made love to her because he had pitied her, or because she was handy, or whatever his reasons were. Betty wanted nothing more than to forget about this whole night. She wanted Daniel to make her forget.

Her monotonous droning trailed off as she described the ambulance ride, the emergency room wait and examination. "-And the doctor explained that the evidence taken off my body would help to catch him. Then I came out here and here you all were."

There was a moment of silence as Betty trailed off somewhat lamely. She pulled her hand from Hilda's. It stung as the blood rushed back into her cold fingers.

"It's a miracle." Ignacio's voice sounded harsh with emotion. "Oh, _mia_." He coughed hard into his hand and excused himself. A red handkerchief came out and a few honking noises later he was a little more composed.

"So now what?" It was the first time Betty had heard Daniel speak in the thirty minutes or so since she had come out of the emergency room.

"Well, now… we wait. I think you folks will want to stay somewhere else tonight. A hotel perhaps while we finish up at your house. I'll call you and let you know when you can go back. And Betty - I know you probably don't feel it now, but in a way this evening was a good thing." Benson winced at how tactless that sounded as five pairs of incredulous eyes bore into her. "Erm… evidence wise, I mean. We have the break-in and his prints all over the house. We have skin samples from where you fought him Betty, and saliva from the bite marks he left on you…"

"Bite marks?" Daniel whispered it sounding confused. "Bite marks." He answered himself, sounding fierce.

"-We couldn't identify him before Betty, but now we will be able to. It makes your experience tonight, as difficult and terrifying as it was…-"

"Worth it." Betty spoke, feeling her lips twitch into something resembling a smile.

Officer Benson nodded. She promised to call Daniel with news and shook hands with everyone as she left.

Betty heard Daniel ask her father something, and his deeper response. That seemed to be a signal to leave, as people started to get up. Hilda swung her purse over her shoulder. Betty became uncomfortably aware that everyone was staring at her. She had missed the conversation and had no idea what was going on.

Daniel crouched down so that they were at eye level. "A hotel, Betty. You are all going to stay-"

"But I don't want to." All of a sudden she sounded petulant and stubborn.

Daniel looked confused. "You don't want what?"

"I want my own apartment; my own things. I don't want some stupid, ritzy sterile hotel."

Daniel blinked. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

"Can't you take me home? Please Daniel?" Betty asked.

She saw something flicker behind his eyes before he nodded. Daniel stood, drawing her up with him. "Of course, if that's what you want, I'll be happy to." Daniel took out his cell and started to make a phone call. He stopped, looked at Betty and started to blush. "Uh, the hotel. Uh… well… I don't usually.."

Justin snorted behind them. Betty was shocked to find her mouth stretching into a genuine smile.

Daniel arranged his features into a snooty look. He raised one eyebrow and looked down his nose at them. "Pffft. I have my assistant handle such mundane things as reservations. " But he broke into a grin as laughter broke out in the room.

Betty, smiling up at him took his phone and dialed from memory. She made reservations for three rooms next to each other at the Plaza and charged it all to Daniel's credit card. She did it in less than three minutes.

"You know my credit card number?" Daniel grinned down at her. He didn't say anything about the ritzy accommodations.

"Don't be an idiot. I know everything about you." A ghost of a smile softened the retort. She recited his business card number and his social security number with a little grin.

As they were leaving the hospital and Daniel was seeing Betty's family into a taxicab, Ignacio made Daniel promise that he would stay with her for what was left of the night and then meet them at the hotel in the morning. Then Daniel was ushering her into his car and she was warm and safe. Betty was out in less than two minutes. She slept with her head on Daniel's shoulder as he drove back into the City.

* * *

Daniel pulled into the space in front of her apartment. He turned off the ignition and sat back in the seat for a minute, sighing. The drive from Jackson Heights to Betty and Amanda's apartment had been extremely quiet. A police car had followed them back and had driven by and down the street as Daniel had parked.

He sighed. What a strange night. It had started out so, well… silly. Him making an excuse to visit her neighborhood. Had she been staying at her apartment, you would have made an excuse to go have coffee with that asshat of a musician… James? Jake? Oh no… Jess. That's right. Daniel completely ignored the little jump of jealousy that he got whenever he thought of Betty singing his songs. Then he had to grin, because God love her… singing was definitely not her forte.

"What are you smiling about?"

The sleepy query caused Daniel to start in surprise. "I hadn't realized you were awake. Sorry about that; we can go on up."

"Hmmm. This is nice too."

It was - kind of. If you didn't look outside the windows. "Yeah. "

They were quiet for a few minutes.

"'Mandy and Marc are here. I don't… I don't want to answer any more questions."

Daniel felt this bizarre urge to run upstairs and remove the gruesome twosome by the scruff of their necks. "Yeah, no worries. Are you… ready to go upstairs?"

Betty made a noncommittal sound but reached to unbuckle her seatbelt. She grabbed his jacket, which she had been huddling in, and hoisted it up over her shoulders again, opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle.

Daniel hurried to follow.

She stopped on the landing near her door and looked at him. Her face looked extremely pale in the poor light from the single bulb. She had shadows of exhaustion under her eyes. Daniel had acted before he even thought about it. He leaned in and dropped a very light kiss on her forehead near the butterfly bandage, and again on her nose. "I'll take care of them. You just hang tight here for a minute. I'll leave the door open, okay?"

Betty nodded and handed him her keys.

Daniel unlocked the dead bolt and the lock under it and opened the door.

"Well about time! We thought you were too busy doin' the nasty with Matt the…" Amanda trailed off as she saw Daniel walk into the living room. "Oh." Her voice was curiously flat as she acknowledged his presence. "Hi Daniel."

"Daniel?" Marc, who had been busy in the kitchen, popped his head out over the counter looking oddly like a displaced hedgehog as he regarded Daniel.

For his part, he was too tired to sort through any underlying feelings Amanda might have for him at the moment. "Guys, something's happened. To Betty. We just got back from the hospital and she's completely exhausted. I don't think she's really up for company or anything."

Amanda's look turned definitely unfriendly. "And what, you're going to stay here and take care of her? _I'm_ her roommate."

Daniel sighed. God knew what Betty had confided to her about the whole debacle that was his life. "I don't mean to step on any feelings, Amanda. I know that you would take excellent care of.." He broke off when Betty walked into the small apartment.

"Oh my GOD!" Both Amanda and Marc rushed over to Betty. It hadn't been all that long since her other injuries had healed, but seeing her so worked over had shocked and startled them. Amanda's look towards Daniel had turned positively icy.

"Amanda. It's okay. Really. I'm safe now. And yeah, I need to talk to Daniel. Marc, can she stay with you? You both look like you were just getting ready to go out."

Marc rolled his eyes. "Naturally. What else would something this hot," he indicated himself, "be doing on this fine evening? Yeah, that would be no problemo senorita. We'll be fine." His "Marc" face changed and concern flavored his voice. "You make sure that you are, okay?"

Amanda stood there with her hands on her hips. "Fine! I can see that I'm outvoted. I don't know why I even bother. I'm just getting kicked to the curb like trash anyway." She started to stalk over to her small evening bag in her six- inch stilettos. She whirled on one foot and pointed one red-tipped nail at Daniel's nose. "And you better sleep on the couch! The last thing she needs is any of your crap!"

Betty caught her shoulder as she walked by her. The two women walked out of the apartment. Marc and Daniel could hear some whispered conversation and once, Amanda saying "Oh damnit," in a watery voice, but couldn't really understand the rest. Betty came back in smiling weakly at Marc. "She's waiting for you. She's okay with everything."

"I am NOT!" came floating down the hallway as the beautiful blonde stalked downstairs. Marc nodded, grabbed his keys and left Betty's apartment, closing the door gently behind him.

"Well, that could have gone better." Daniel said jerking his head towards the closed door.

"She'll be okay. She's just worried about me." Betty crossed to the couch and collapsed. Daniel started to walk towards her when the telephone rang. "Let the machine get it."

Daniel blinked. "You have a machine? No voice mail?"

"Nah. Amanda likes to see how many calls she's received. She feels justified by the number of blinks or something. I don't know. She's kind of weird." Betty shut her eyes and sat back looking as though she didn't particularly want to move ever again.

There was a beep, and then they heard: Betty? It's Matt. I'm glad you programmed your home number into my phone or I never would have remembered your number. I left a few messages on your cell but they went straight to voicemail. I was just wondering if you were still up for dinner tomorrow night? I promise my mother will be on her very best behavior. Or I'll beat her in the head for you. Ha ha. Me Tarzan You Jane." There was the sound of a goofy Tarzan call. "Yeah. So, I seem to just be talking a lot here. I miss you. Hope you'll call me back. _Beeeep._

Daniel watched the little smile come over Betty's lips and felt the tiny stab of jealousy that had hit him as he thought of Jess, turn into a raging beast at the mention of Matt. He wasn't used to jealousy. It kind of sucked, not to put too fine a point on things. He had been able to ignore a lot of the flowers and jellybeans and whatever the hell else the little poser had sent her, but hearing his voice made his heart ache.

"He's such a goofball." Betty opened her eyes and looked up at Daniel. "You know, he actually gave me some advice that he thought I should tell you."

 _Oh great. Fucking fantastic. I bet I'm a common topic of conversation between you two._ "That's nice. Look, are you hungry? Do you want a bath?" Daniel fought to keep what he was feeling out of his voice.

Betty opened her mouth and then shut it with a little snap. "A bath. Oh, that sounds heavenly."

Daniel smirked inwardly. He had managed to completely divert her from what she had been about to say. _Ha. Take that, Matt the Magnificent._ Daniel moved towards the tub and pulled back the shower curtain. He saw at least four different types of bubbles, creams, and other girl stuff. He started the bath water, waiting until it got to be a decent hot temperature before plugging the drain. He found one that smelled like vanilla, one that smelled like seven different prostitutes had been shoved into a bottle, and another that smelled like orange Dreamcicles. He picked the first and the last and dumped some in, and pretty soon had a respectable amount of steam and bubbles.

Betty had taken off his coat and stood up, walking towards her bedroom. She came back naked, except for a large fluffy towel wrapped around her.

"Well, you're all set. " Daniel said in a forced cheery voice. "I can just go watch teliv…"

"No. I don't want you to. Will you… stay with me?"

Daniel almost had a heart attack when she dropped the towel. His wide, startled eyes met hers. _I couldn't possibly…. She can't mean…_ He coughed.

Betty, unconcerned at the way he was gaping at her like a fish, stepped into the tub. She hissed a little as the heat of the water hit her skin and little goose bumps broke out. There were so many bubbles in the tub that as she eased down to where she was sitting, they gave her an illusion of modesty.

Still, there seemed to be a rather large blockage in Daniel's throat. He cleared it feeling a bit like a peeping Tom. He leaned over and put his keys, wallet and cell onto her coffee table.

"Ow. I don't know if that hurts or feels good." Betty's voice was low, almost a whisper. It was also a little huskier than her normal tone. Strangely, hearing that made Daniel feel less like an interloper and more like a participant. He knelt down and grabbed a loofah.

"Any particular body wash?" He strove for nonchalance, as though he gave women baths every day of his life.

"Mmmm. Don't care. Most of these are Amanda's anyway. Thanks by the way."

Daniel did the cautious sniffing thing again and went with something called 'Vanilla butter cookie'. He dipped it into the bathwater and worked up a respectable lather. He started on her neck, which Betty had tilted back to rest on the back of the tub. He firmly told his body that she did NOT need his overactive libido tonight. _God, what kind of creep was he?_

"Thanks for what?"

"Just being here. With me. And staying the night." Daniel's loofah stroked softly down the column of her neck and over her shoulder. He tried manfully not to notice how her nipples hardened, peeking at him through the bubbles.

"You were great tonight. Thanks again for the…ow!" She sat up and clasped her hand to the back of her shoulder.

Daniel was so surprised that he dropped the little sponge. When Betty sat up and moved her arm, it brought her breasts a helluva lot closer to his face than he had ever anticipated being able to get again. But he forgot all about that when he saw what she was covering up.

Rage filled him so quickly, so suddenly, that he felt light headed. Adrenaline seemed to slam into him. He had never in his life wanted to kill someone before he saw the mark on Betty's body.

It was almost a perfect circle, with each tooth mark flawlessly imprinted in her flesh. The skin had broken in places, and blood vessels had broken in others, leaving the skin both raw and bruised. When he had squeezed the loofah, the water must have stung as it trickled down her shoulder near her neck.

His hands felt cold… then hot. He moved so that he was kneeling behind her, bubbles and breasts completely forgotten. He wanted to find him. Chuckles. He wanted to physically feel the life leave the other man's body; wanted to be the one to hit him, pounding his fury and hurt and anger into his flesh until he somehow could make him pay for what he had done to Betty.

"I thought he had raped you." Daniel's voice was almost conversational, completely at odds with the killing rage that was boiling inside of him. "When I stood there in your house and saw your hair on the floor, and saw the way the room was messed up, I thought that for a moment I had lost you. Which was stupid I know, since I knew you were safe and on your way to the hospital. And later in the hospital when you told everyone what happened, you kind of… scared me. I sat there listening to you, picturing every goddamn thing that he did to you, and was in awe of how incredibly brave you were. You _are._ " Daniel felt the sting of tears and thought for a moment that he was losing his mind. Was it possible to feel so many different emotions in the space of a few seconds? He reached out and very gently touched the bite mark. "I… was in Jackson Heights, trying to work up the courage to come over and see you. And you… you go through this... again… and… " He bent his head down and brushed the top of her head with his cheek.

"I'm okay, Daniel." Betty turned in the tub so that she was on her knees, facing him. Water sloshed precariously at the edge of the porcelain. Little dabs of bubbles clung to her skin like some sort of weird bubbly Dalmatian. She reached up and cradled the sides of his face in her hands. "I am. Just bumps and bruises and he scared the bejeebers out of me, but I'm okay. Knowing that I could call you, when I was running all I could think of was to find you. To hear you again. And you did, calm me down I mean. And later when you held me… I just felt so safe. You make me feel safe Daniel." Betty whispered the last sentence and brought Daniel's face to hers to kiss him. It took him a moment to respond, but when he did he tried to tell her with his kiss everything that had been so screwed up in his head for the last few weeks. That he missed her. That he wanted her. That he loved…

Daniel broke off the kiss for a moment completely shocked. The adrenaline was still wrecking havoc with his system.

Betty blinked up at him. She smiled sweetly. "I don't want you… to sleep on the couch. And none of that treating me like glass nonsense. I just want you to… make me feel again Daniel."

He knelt there still shocked, mind still reeling. He loved her. He was in love. With Betty. _HewasinlovewithBetty._ Sweet Jesus. He watched embarrassment flicker over her face and realized he was just sitting there like an idiot.

He shook his head. "Sorry. I was just thinking of how many different ways I can make you forget your incredibly crappy night." He waggled his eyebrows for effect and was rewarded with Betty's somewhat relieved grin. Daniel leaned forward again and Betty met him halfway, and their kiss was just as passionate and hot as he remembered. The need to be gentle warred with his desire to make her literally forget every bad thing that had happened to her because of him.

Desire won.

His hands came down over her wet back, stroking down almost to her tailbone and back up over the sides of her breasts. Betty moaned in his arms and her arms came up around his back.

 _I love you. Just tell her. Just pull back and say it._ But saying something like that wasn't exactly easy for him. Outpourings of emotion weren't exactly encouraged at the Meade household. Witness the way Alex had gone about turning into Alexis if there were any questions on that score.

Daniel felt her lips part in a grin and knew what she was going to do about a split second before she did it. Betty leaned back suddenly and Daniel flopped gracelessly over the edge of the tub, falling on top of her and sending what felt like ten gallons of water sloshing over the sides onto the floor. They both sputtered and wiped bubbles out of their eyes.

It was at least an hour before they made it to the couch.

* * *

The sound of the phone woke Daniel. Betty was asleep behind him, curled into his body heat. They were both naked. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He sat up on his elbow and blinked sleepily at the clock. He remembered carrying her into her bedroom around two in the morning. It was now 5:25 and dawn was just starting to lighten the night sky. Daniel grabbed the phone before the highly annoying _BEEEP_ of Amanda's answering machine could wake Betty up.

"Hello?"

"Please excuse the phone call at this horrible hour, but I need to speak to Miss Betty Suarez."

Daniel was cautious. "May I take a message? She is unavailable at the moment." He grinned at the irony of him taking a message for her instead of the other way around.

"Certainly! Again, sorry for such a late call. Dr. Jenders, the ER resident, had written Miss Suarez a prescription for a muscle relaxant for her back. I suppose the poor girl was too rattled to tell him what was going on. Imagine our surprise when we got the tests back!"

"A.. huh?" Daniel thought about hanging up. He didn't know who this crazy woman was but she sounded entirely too chipper for this early in the morning.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Listen to me babble on. Listen, she hasn't filled that script yet has she?"

Daniel thought for a moment. No. They hadn't done anything like that. They had been… otherwise occupied. He grinned, albeit somewhat tiredly. "No. We haven't filled it yet."

"Oh thank goodness. I'm so glad that I caught you in time. That amount would have harmed the baby! I have faxed a different prescription over to her pharmacist on record, so she should be able to get those pills as soon as she wakes up. "

_The… buh... baby?_

Daniel couldn't have told anyone what he responded into the phone, but as he hung up he was certain that his heart was breaking into tiny little pieces. Betty was... pregnant?

She made a little snuffling sound and burrowed further into the blankets.

Daniel had a completely absurd urge to laugh. Followed by an equally painful urge to cry.

He eased out of bed and went about searching for his jeans, his mind whirling. Great timing. You finally figure out that you're in love with her - just in time for her to have Matt's baby. Maybe they'll let you throw the baby shower?

Sick with jealousy and hurt, Daniel scribbled a note for her to call the hospital and crept stealthily from her building.

He didn't show up to work that day.

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**(Ahem. Daniel is not a very nice guy in parts of this chapter. Please don't flame me too much. I'm fragile. Historianic and Survived_it_all... I LOVE YOU! THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR HELP!)**

 

* * *

 

If 'Moody Bastard' was a new cologne, then Daniel would be saturated in it. He stalked into his building, swore under his breath at having to wait for the elevator, and walked onto the Mode floor glaring at all the festive little pumpkins and Halloween decorations strewn about the Mode offices. He wanted to squash the little bastarding things. Partially because they had the bad taste to be cute and adorable, but mostly because Daniel knew that _she_ had put them there. Fortunately, Betty wasn't at her desk when he went by. She's probably off screwing some other rich guy he thought and then inwardly winced.

_That's not fair!_

"Oh, shut up," he muttered to himself and threw his briefcase onto his couch. Almost as an afterthought he threw his suit jacket in the general direction of his coat hanger, uncaring when it slid off and pooled onto the floor.

He walked over to his phone and set it to 'unavailable', childishly hoping that the damn thing rang off the hook so Betty would be swamped most of the morning. He started to sit down, then paused and stood back up, rummaging through his desk drawer.

He scrawled on a sticky note: 'If you're reading this, then you can fuck off. I'm busy.' He then stuck it on the door, locked it, pulled his blinds and turned on some music to muffle any outer office sounds that came through the glass walls.

Daniel was not in a good mood.

He wasn't even sure why he had bothered coming in to the office today. He went to his briefcase and got out the bottle of Macallans he had stashed in there. Shit.He had forgotten a cup. Daniel looked around his office and glared at the WORLD'S BEST BOSS coffee mug that sat innocently on his desk. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he remembered the cheesy way she had given it to him - filled with his morning coffee like any other day. When he had asked her why he was getting presents she had shrugged, grinned that room-brightening grin, kissed him on the cheek, and then whistled as she walked off to answer a phone.

That had been almost four months ago, after she had read his letter of recommendation to YETI. He forced the tender memory away.

Fuck it. That would work. He filled it about half full with the whiskey and tossed it back, hardly wincing as the smooth liquor burned his throat. He had been drinking steadily since about noon yesterday. He wouldn't even be here if not for some damn editor's meeting that Wilhelmina had been nagging him about. Well technically she had had Marc call him and remind him several times, but it amounted to the same thing.

In the past thirty hours he had ducked calls from his mother, Officer Benson, Hilda, and Marc. Around three yesterday afternoon, and after Daniel had been so intoxicated that he could barely dial the phone, he had sent flowers to Betty. He specifically asked for the cheap thanks-for-the-memories sort of bouquet. Just to make sure his message was clear he had them write 'THX 4 A FUN NITE XOXOXOXO'. He was certain Betty would remember early in her days of working there his attempt to write a similar thanks-but-no-thanks message to one of his models. She wasn't an idiot. She'd get the message. It was petty and mean and that fit his mood just fine. Fuck her.

_Ha. Been there. Done that._

So, no calls from Betty either. Conversely, that pissed him off too.

He felt the alcohol hit him. Daniel knew he was feeling sorry for himself. He knew that it had been selfish and cowardly to call Detective Benson's precinct and leave a message for her to deal directly with Betty. He gave her number and Hilda's cell just to be certain. To her credit, Benson had only called him once. He had deleted all his voicemails without listening to them. He didn't meet them at the hotel as he had promised. He'd spent the day drinking, the night drinking, and then had finally moseyed into work around eleven the next morning.

He had made it back to his apartment. Most of the media had left him alone. There had only been a few paparazzi and he had been able to completely ignore their questions. He had meandered up the stairs in sort of a fog, his thoughts chasing each other around his head like a terrier chasing its tail. It was like he had two Daniels in his head. He remembered old Loony Tunes cartoons where there had been a Good Sylvester and a Bad Sylvester sitting on each of the cat's shoulders, arguing over the real Sylvester's conscience.

 **Bad Daniel:** What a fucking bitch. How can she do that to me? How can she be all, 'Oh Daniel I need you' while she's still fucking that idiot?

 **Good Daniel:** Hey! Don't call her a bitch. She's just about as far from a bitch as a human can be. She went through a horrible experience and needed you there. What's so wrong about that? You should feel honored that she even trusted you enough to call you in the first damn place.

 **Bad Daniel:** Oh sure. You should really give old Matt a call. 'Hey dumbass, what's up? Do you know what I made your girlfriend do last night? How many times I made her moan and scream and guess what buddy… she sure as hell wasn't calling out your name.'

 **Good Daniel:** You hang up that phone right now mister! You absolutely will not call him. It's not your business. (Strangely, Good Daniel here sounded eerily like his mother.)

 **Bad Daniel:** Oh shut the fuck up.

 **Good Daniel:** _Sniffs injuredly. Throws hands up in air._

 **Good Daniel:** Oh do what you want. Nothing I say is going to make one damn bit of difference. By the way, I think your liver called. It wants to liiiive.

Fortunately before he could call Matt, he had passed out.

Now Daniel looked around his office and swiveled in his chair, looking out at the landscape. It seemed as though the whole world felt the same way he did. It was overcast and drizzling rain. The weather had even forecast the possibility of an early sleet - which fit his mood perfectly. Why shouldn't everyone else be miserable along with him? Didn't he deserve it?

 **Good Daniel:** Oh Jeez. There you go again. Pity party, table for one! Oh nooooo! It's Daniel Meade! Call the WHAAAAAAAAAA-mbulance.

 **Bad Daniel:** I really hate you. You know that? I would be okay if you got hit by a bus. He loves her. And she betrayed him.

 **Good Daniel:** You're an idiot. I think it was John Lennon who said, 'All you need is…love.' We... err… I mean they can work it out.

 **Bad Daniel:** Oh yeah? Well, it was J. Geils who said, 'Love Stinks'. And John Lennon left his wife and kid for some crazy lady who destroyed the Beatles, by the way. Just sayin'.

 **Good Daniel:** LISTEN YOU! YOU BETTER LEAVE JOHN LENNON OUT OF THIS! AND DON'T YOU DARE SMIRK AT ME!

Daniel shook his head, hard. Maybe he had had a wee bit too much alcohol. He was losing his damn mind. He caught sight of his reflection and leaned his head against the cool glass looking despondently out at the city spread out below him.

It could have been hours or minutes later when he heard a sharp rap on the door. He ignored it, spun around on his chair and turned up the music.

"DANIEL EMERSON MEADE! YOU UNLOCK THIS DOOR. I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"

 _Jesus, Mom. They can probably hear you in Jersey._ Daniel knew he was pouting and that just added to his general craptastic mood. Still, he waited until she pounded on the door again before he went to turn the music down. He knew his mother quite well, thank you very much. If she didn't start banging on the glass with her shoe, she'd have someone break into his office if he didn't respond to her satisfaction.

He rolled his eyes, set the coffee mug on the corner of his desk, staggered a little when he got up, and bumped his shin on the coffee table before he managed to unlock the door.

His mother was standing there as patiently as one could ever imagine without a hair or thread out of place. Daniel could see most of the employees' heads popping over cubicles and around doorways, trying to get a front-row seat for the impending show.

"If you people don't get to work immediately, I'll save this company a shitload of money by FIRING ALL OF YOU", Daniel bellowed. The heads disappeared so fast that Daniel was surprised that he couldn't feel a breeze.

"Daniel, I've always admired the special way you have with people. You should really write a book," Claire said calmly and stepped into his office. She seated herself primly on one of the sofas. Daniel slammed the door shut again and slouched in the chair across from her. He could feel his shirt untuck in the back. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Claire stared at him impassively, almost without blinking. "Darling, if your lip comes out any more, a wee little birdy is going to poop on it." It was the same thing she'd been saying to him since he was five. It had the same effect now. Daniel sighed, struggling manfully not to roll his eyes and sat up properly. His fingers drummed an impatient rap-a-tap-tap on his knees. Just listen to what she wants then she'll get the hell out of here and leave you alone.

"I sent you an email. Well, forwarded it actually."

"I don't care. What do you want Mom? I'm sorta busy here."

Claire's gaze traveled from her disheveled, unshaven son, to the desk empty of everything except a half-empty bottle of scotch and a coffee cup. "Indeed." She looked back at Daniel.

Seconds ticked by slowly.

"Oh for Christ's sake." Daniel got up out of the chair and pulled his shirt down, each movement showing his irritation. He walked over to his coffee cup and threw the rest of it back - although he was too chicken to look at his mother defiantly while he did it - and sat down in his swivel chair. He wiggled his mouse and waited while the computer came up. "Okay, so you came all the way over here for an email? You know, technology is an amazing thing. Emails come automatically. You don't actually have to announce them in person." His voice was hostile and brittle.

 **Good Daniel:** Whoa, buddy. That's your mother you're talking to!

 **Bad Daniel:** I sure as hell wouldn't take that tone with her. You're on your own, dude.

Claire merely waited impassively. Daniel's attention was on his computer and he didn't notice the way her hands tightened on her lap.

"Email… email… okay… Marc… Marc… Marc…. Wilhelmina…. Marc…. Oh hey look. Free Viagra. Marc…. Oh, here you are." Daniel clicked the link and read the email from his mother. Claire winced as she saw the blood slowly drain from his face as he read.

**To: CMeade@mode.com**

**From: BSuarez@mode.com**

_Mrs. Meade,_

_It is with great sadness that I write this letter. As of today, I am terminating my employment at MODE magazine. I want you to know that knowing you has been one of the greatest things about working there. I will never forget your advice to me, or your sense of humor in delivering it. I will call you later if you want. I know it's terribly tacky to quit via an email. Please understand and know that I hold you in the highest regard._

_I'm sure your son will have no problems finding another assistant._

_Yours,_

_Betty_

Claire watched as Daniel's face crumpled. Her own heart ached to see the naked pain on his face.

* * *

Hilda Suarez was someone that showed her emotions with barely a thought for the way they would affect her audience. When she was happy? People knew it. When she was unhappy? People knew it. When she was angry? People found themselves taking a step back from her as though insane fury was contagious.

Still, she managed to keep herself relatively composed as Betty explained quite calmly what had happened during the last few days.

Ignacio and Hilda had been sitting on chairs - they had given the couch away since neither could stand to sit on it - watching television when Betty had walked in. It had been raining all day and her hair was damp. She carried a bag that looked to be fairly full, and had offered them an exhausted looking little smile of hello. She shut the door softly behind her. Hilda had started to jump up to run over to her but Ignacio had stalled her movement with a sharp motion of his hand and a darkly significant look.

"Hi Papi. Hey Hilda. I'm starving. Have you guys eaten yet?" Betty's voice sounded completely normal.

She hadn't seen Betty in almost three days. She, Justin and her father had been like kids in a candy store when they saw the suite of rooms Betty had booked for them. Gold fixtures, a marble bathtub… they had gone crazy peeking in drawers to see what was stashed there. The next morning, with Hilda's purse stuffed full with each bottle of lotion and shampoo the hotel had provided, not to mention the towels, tissues, and snacks, they had waited in the lobby for two hours, waiting for Betty to show up. Detective Benson had called and said that she had Chuckles in custody. Hilda, Ignacio and Justin were ecstatic at the news that he had been turned in while seeking treatment at a hospital. It seemed unreal that the man could have been in their house not ten hours ago, and now was in jail awaiting his trial. When it wanted to, the wheels of justice turned swiftly. Especially when Betty Suarez, the media's darling Boss-saving heroine had been involved. The Detective had said that they were free to go back to their home and had given them the number of a clean-up crew that she highly recommended. She would call back with more details as they arrived.

Betty had called Hilda's cell next. "I'm going away for a few days. I have some stuff to sort out. Don't worry about me, I promise to call every day. I don't have my cell, so don't bother calling me, okay? Love you… Bye…" Before the sputtering Hilda could slow her down or ask her any questions, she had hung up.

She had called Hilda twice at exactly 9:00 pm. The conversation was short. Betty would answer no questions, just tell her big sister that she was okay, then the soft click as she disconnected. Hilda had fully expected her to call her tonight too, only she had turned up on their doorstep instead.

"Sure, mija. I have plenty of leftovers. I'll be happy to warm up something for you. Why don't the two of you come in the kitchen and sit?"

Betty was staring at the empty space left by the couch. They had had the carpets removed but the faint bleach odor the cleaning crew used remained in the air. Hilda nudged Betty, who jumped a little and moved quickly to the kitchen. She slung her coat over the back of a chair as she walked to the heart of the house. They sat.

Hilda, who had been almost certain that Betty was going to confess to some other evil deed that Giggles or Guffaw (whatever his name was) man had done to her had been nervous for a moment, but had nodded and sat back to listen. She was shamed to realize a certain curiosity. Betty hadn't really spoken of her experiences with the kidnapping and Hilda found herself ghoulishly curious about the details. But when her wayward sister finally opened her mouth, it was something entirely different.

"You quit?" It was the third time that she had repeated it. It wasn't that she was shocked that Betty had quit MODE, it was more that she was shocked that Betty seemed so calm.

"Mmhm."

"And you… and Daniel…." Hilda knew she sounded stupid, but really. How had she missed this? When they had been on the news right after they had been released from the hospital… and Daniel had been so vehement with that reporter….. "Wow."

"Yeah. Wow." Betty laughed, but the sound was strained and hollow. "The first time, well… I guess he felt sorry for me. And last night I threw myself at him… and he was gone the next day."

"Wow." She continued to stare at her younger sister, dumbfounded.

"Then he sent the flowers."

Hilda's face melted into the look women get when flowers after a romantic night are mentioned.

"He didn't offer to pay me for services rendered, but it was just about the same sort of kiss off. He wants nothing to do with me. Which is sort of a shame considering… well. Considering." There was a sudden slam of crockery from behind them. Both women, who had completely forgotten their father was in the same room with them, jumped a little.

"Wait. What?" Hilda had been imagining a white dress designed to look good from the back. It was pretty obvious that if either of them were going to get married, it wasn't going to be her. She came to reality with a sudden start.

_How dare he! To Betty? Of all people, he would treat her like… like a mattress bunny? Me? Maybe. But Betty is just… not that type of person. I just can't believe it._

Ignacio slammed some food down in front of his girls. Hilda darted a glance up at him and was shocked to see the look on her father's face. Betty was oblivious and smiled at her dad, digging into her food with gusto.

" _Muurgh mppph umph meeerphurg_." Betty swallowed then tried again. "I do have some kind of … surprising news for you. I went away because I.. well.. I had to figure out how to tell you and how.. well how to deal with things. You know me… I made a list." She took another bite of food and dug into her bag. She emerged with a yellow notepad with a list jotted down neatly in Betty's script. Hilda couldn't see what was written there, but could see that there were only a few things listed. Betty saw her sister's nosy gaze and turned the list face down on to the table. Hilda made a grab for it and Betty kicked her under the table. "You can wait. I'm starved."

Hilda rubbed her shin and frowned.

Hilda had heard of every love, every childhood crush, every romance that Betty had harbored (okay so sometimes she knew it because she had snuck a peek at her younger sister's journal.) But she had had absolutely no clue of what had been happening between her sweet sister and That Fucking Bastard, Daniel Meade. She was surprised at the amount of trepidation she felt. It just wasn't like Betty to go off on her own. When she had a problem, she tended to go to her family, not burrow off somewhere alone. It dawned on Hilda what specifically was upsetting her. Betty's voice had been cheerful. But under that tone… was an unhappiness. Betty was pretending not to care about what she was saying, but it was pretty obvious that she was heartbroken. _Bastard. Oh you just wait till I get my claws into you, you stupid sonofabitch._

Ignacio and Hilda's eyes met while Betty was eating. He gave a tiny little shrug. Hilda raised her eyebrows. Ignacio gave the little shrug again.

"Would you two stop that? Hello? I'm sitting right here."

Both had the grace to look a little sheepish.

Betty pushed away her half-eaten plate. "Before I start, where's Justin?"

Hilda smiled. "Oh, he's staying at his friend's house. He'll be back in the morning."

Betty took a deep breath. "Okay. Well… the first thing is… I let Marc sublet my apartment. He swooped in on it like the Wicked Witch of the West."

Hilda opened her mouth to say something smart but her father's slippered foot came down hard on her toes. _What the hell was it with the footsie today? Couldn't people just tell her to shut her mouth?_

"I don't know what I'm going to do for money, but I do have several contacts with the YETI people. I think I'll miss working in the middle of all the excitement at MODE… but I think I'll be okay. Realizing that kind of surprised me, actually."

"Of course sweetheart, you'll be amazing at anything you do. You know you always have a home here. And Hilda's business is doing very well. We're okay for money – so don't hurry. It would do you good to just have a mini- vacation. Maybe call that nice Matt and go to some ball games or something."

Betty tried a smile but it fell flat. "I know that I'm always welcome here, but it's a relief to hear you say that. Okay well the third thing is…."

Hilda found herself tensing in anticipation. Betty took a deep breath…. and burst into tears. She pushed back from the table and ran upstairs. Ignacio and Hilda stared at each other in shock. Hilda picked up the chair that had crashed to the floor. She saw her father rummaging in the knife drawer. "Paaapi. No. You can't go after him with a Ginsu kni…. Oh. Oh …. _Shit._ " Hilda had righted the chair and flipped over Betty's list.

Ignacio paused. Hilda was a loud girl but she very rarely swore around him like that. His eldest was staring at the lined piece of paper. Her wide eyes met his as she turned the notepad around so that he could read it. Only three things were written on it:

Quit Job.

Move back home.

Have baby.

_"Madre de Dios. Voy a matarlo.."_

* * *

Hilda had waited about fifteen minutes before she climbed the stairs to Betty's room. Her thoughts were whirling in her head like a miniature hurricane. She tapped her fingernails on Betty's door and walked in. The room was dark. Betty was a huddled shape on the mattress, curled in on herself.

She didn't say anything. Hilda just walked over to Betty's bed and shoved a Little Mermaid pillow off on to the floor to make room for her butt. Betty didn't move for a moment. Hilda reached out and stroked her hair. It was what she missed most about her mother, that comforting touch that took all the nightmares and bogymen away. She had been doing the same thing for Betty for as long as she could remember. Betty turned over, curling in against Hilda's leg. Her body shook with sobs, and Hilda's sweatpants quickly felt saturated from the salty rain of Betty's tears.

Hilda leaned so that her back was against the headboard, and waited her out, just stroking Betty's hair and smoothing it down her back.

"I just feel so stupid. I just kept … throwing myself at him, Hilda. Then I would freak out and remember all the reasons why being with him was a bad idea. When we were walking through the woods and later in the cabin, well he said some things that had bothered me. Made me feel… insecure, I guess. But at my apartment he was just so…. Sexy. Incredible. He made me forget everything bad that had ever happened to me."

Hilda's eyebrows hit her hairline and she wondered if it would be tacky to fan herself.

"And then he was gone. He scribbled a note to call my doctor and was gone before I woke up. Then he wouldn't talk to me… and those f-f-flowers…" Betty started to cry again.

Hilda's hand stilled for a minute. A niggling, fleeting thought occurred to her. She dismissed it and resumed stroking her sister's hair. Betty had beautiful hair. It was as calming to her as to Betty when she stroked it. Betty quieted down and mumbled something into her sister's leg.

"Hmm?"

"I know I'm feeling sorry for myself. Plus…. There's something else I didn't tell you."

"Well…" Hilda hesitated.

Betty sat up and wiped her face with her shirt. "Oh. The list. Oh." She was quiet for a moment. "So Papi…."

"Was contemplating going after him with a meat cleaver. Good thing we don't keep guns in the house."

"Oh."

"He also was going to make you wear a red A on your chest and ban you from the house."

"Ha. Ha."

"Seriously, Betty. There are … choices you know."

"I know. I thought about all of them. I think what it boils down to is that I love Daniel too much to give up a part of him. Does that sound selfish? Do you… do you think that I'm making a mistake?"

Hilda felt her eyes fill up with tears. She blinked them away. Her sister's capacity to love was what made her ... well...  _her_. "I don't think a baby is ever a mistake, Betty. I thank God every day that I have Justin. Lord knows I thought about giving him up. Santos even offered to pay for an abortion. We were so young… and so damn stupid. But as scared as I was of telling Papi, and scared of what everyone would think… I wanted that baby. My baby. I couldn't give up a part of myself. If that's being selfish, then… I don't care."

They were quiet for a few minutes. Betty sat up a little so that her head was on Hilda's shoulder. Her arm came around Hilda's waist. "I love you. You're the best sister in the world. I'm even ready to forgive you for freezing my bras when I was eleven."

Hilda snorted. "I was so pissed off that you had more chestworks at eleven that I had at eighteen. Hell. You still do." They both were quiet for awhile, listening to the night sounds from outside.

Hilda didn't want to ask the question… but she felt like she had to know the answer. "Are you going to tell…. Daniel?"

 

 

**The next day…**

The phone rang at one in the morning.

"I thought you'd call."

"I don't know what to say. I wish I could say that I just don't believe it, but frankly…" There was an exasperated sigh. "He doesn't know. He has no clue. If we could just…"

"Claire, they have to figure this out for themselves. I don't think it's our place to interfere."

" Bullshit. By the time they figure anything out we'll be one-hundred and forty-three."

There was the sound of rueful laughter.

"What If we didn't force anything? I mean, what if…. We just put them in a situation that they had to work things out?"

"Claire…"

Her voice sped up with excitement as the idea began to form. "Dinner. Bring your family to dinner at my house. I wanted to give Betty a party anyway where I could introduce her to some publishers. And I'll take care of the rest."

"Claire…."

"Please? I just can't stand to see them making each other so miserable. We came so close to losing them… I just… I just can't watch this train wreck anymore. Please, Ignacio?"

A sigh of acquiesce.

Claire pumped her fist triumphantly glad that he couldn't see it. It could be done without Ignacio's help of course, but with his help things would happen much more smoothly. She wasn't going to allow this to happen. It was as simple as that. Daniel had been drunk for three days. After going from such a caring and empathetic businessman, he had hardly been at work for several days. The one day he had bothered coming in, the sniping between him and Wilhelmina had been painful to witness. Even Marc excused himself. Wilhelmina had been reduced to throwing things and Daniel had left after calling her so many names that Claire was shocked that Wilhelmina hadn't retaliated with a lawsuit.

Kids were so stupid.

* * *

Several hours later, another phone rang.

"Hell-lo?" The word punctuated by a yawn.

There was a silence. Some breathing.

"Who is this please?"

"It's me."

"Oh." The syllable was shocked, whispered.

Some more silence.

"Did you want something?"

An angry, staccato laugh. "You could say that."

"I do have something to tell you."

"Do you really think that I don't know?"

A different sort of silence. A long, indrawn breath. "Oh. Did Hilda call you?"

"No. I really have no interest in speaking with your sister." A woman's murmur. The wet, breathy sound of heavy kissing. Then some muffled talking as a hand covered the phone.

Betty sat straight up in the dark. Her fingers clutched the phone hard enough that she heard the aged plastic creak.

"I called to tell you that they found me a great assistant. She's really a fan of… working… late."

Betty felt nausea swim in her stomach.

"As for your little news…. I don't care. It's really has nothing to do with me."

Daniel's eyes closed as he heard the soft click that signified that she had hung up. The woman's arms slid around his shoulders and he shook her off angrily. He crawled out of bed and walked to his wet bar, naked. He poured a few fingers of bourbon into the glass along with a few ice cubes. Before he drank the liquor, he held the glass up to his aching head. It felt cool. He looked out of the window at the night.

Being cruel hadn't made him feel any better. He had been so certain that it would. In fact he felt just about as low as he could feel. Like a kid who pulls the wings off the butterfly after he swats it out of the air. It was like he had no control over anything anymore. It didn't seem possible that everything could have gone to shit in such a short amount of time.


	20. Chapter 20

**Two weeks later….**

"Suzuki St. Pierre here, reporting on the trial of the century. And don't worry. No little white gloves to worry about here. The trial of alleged kidnapper, Michael Andrews is scheduled to start in less than an hour."

Behind the fashion reporter, there was a shot of Chuckles, clad in a suit and looking tan and healthy being escorted into the court room. He had been denied bail and had been kept in solitary while in jail. Chuckles was staring straight ahead. He looked once at the camera. His eyes were a steely gray. There was no emotion in them. They were cold. He looked as though he were completely unconcerned about any of the hundreds of reporters screaming his name, questions, and comments.

"Now, here is Daniel Meade looking… well. We have heard about the Media Mogul's recent nocturnal activities, and sometimes age makes it hard to bounce back after a night of … frolicking." And indeed, Daniel looked horrible. He was usually vain about his appearance, enough that he insisted on looking good whenever he could. You couldn't tell. He looked older. His skin was sallow and unshaven. His eyes were bloodshot. It was blatantly obvious that he was wearing the clothes from yesterday. There was a smudge of bright red lipstick on his collar. "As he enters the court room, one can't help but notice that he is not with his bubbly assistant and fellow victim Betty Suarez." Suzuki made a face. In a little box over his head the graphics department showed a clip of any one of several of Betty's more embarrassing television moments. "Regardless, keep it here for up to the minute updates on all the courtroom dram.. oh wait! Here she is now."

A taxi pulled up to the curb and Justin stepped out. He beamed at all the cameras and flashed two peace signs from each of his fists. He then turned to help his mother and Ignacio out. Betty was the last to emerge. Suzuki looked shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered, commenting on what Betty was wearing. Betty did indeed look different. She was wearing a black dress, one that was quite modest but still fashionable. She had finally replaced her red glasses and behind them her eyes looked enormous. Her hair had been swept up into a knot at the base of her neck. She wore modest heels and black tights. The only bit of color in her entire outfit was the small bright blue butterfly pin she had on her dress. Security escorted the family into the courtroom.

The show was about to begin.

* * *

Ignacio had always thought of himself as a fairly simple man. When he was young and hopelessly in love, he had acted rashly and violently and since spent his adult life trying to repent for his sins. True, finding out that he wasn't a murderer had been quite a blow, but it didn't change the way he lived his life. He didn't measure riches in money, but in the closeness and love of his family.

But he still wanted to kill that little Meade bastard. It wasn't that he had touched his Betty. Ignacio wasn't an idiot. He knew his daughters better than they knew themselves. Betty had blossomed from such a shy, introverted girl to a brilliant, independent, competent … grown up woman. He had seen her handle situation after situation with honesty and integrity and had never been more proud of her. And a good bit of that was due to the chances that Daniel had provided. The man had come through time and time again. Of course, how could he not with Betty managing everything? Ignacio allowed himself a small snicker as they were seated near Claire and Daniel behind their lawyers. He had watched the two of them dance around each other for years. When they were taken from him, so brutally and violently, he and Claire had leaned on each other - had drawn strength from shared pain, but had still hoped that this might be the thing that pushed them together. And indeed, it seemed as though they had reached another level during their stay in the hospital.

Then things went a little crazy. Betty showed up on his doorstep, moping around the house and spending quality time with the chocolate ice cream. Then the break-in and …

Ignacio's eyes met Daniel's for a brief moment. The row was full. Daniel sat on the edge, next to his mother. Then Justin, Betty, Hilda and himself had all piled in. Daniel had been looking listlessly around the room and his gaze settled with Ignacio's. Ignacio couldn't help the spark of anger he felt. He saw Daniel's eyes widen, and he looked hastily away and down at his hands.

…and this. Daniel treating Betty so shabbily. Enough that she did finally quit her job at Mode. Enough that Betty hardly left her room in the past few days. Ignacio meant it when he said to Claire that they shouldn't interfere. Why should he, when Daniel obviously made her so miserable? The coward finds out he's a father and runs away, back to his old habits quicker than a garden jackrabbit that got into the habanaroes instead of the green peppers.

It was Santos all over again.

Ignacio could provide for his daughter and grandchild fine enough. He certainly didn't need Daniel Meade making even more of a mess of things or hurting Betty any more than he had done. Ah well, that sounded great in theory. In reality he had raised her to be an independent spirit- and Betty would do what she darn well pleased.

His gaze landed on Betty. She sat ramrod straight, staring straight ahead at the empty judge's bench. She spoke when spoken to and had chatted fairly pleasantly with Claire, but when the conversation was off of her, she resumed her forced stare. Ignacio didn't see her look at Daniel once. Tellingly, Daniel's wandering gaze seemed to settle on her, then veer off to other parts of the room.

_Kids._

The lawyer's opening statements were pretty much as expected for the media circus that this was creating. Chuckles… or Michael Andrews' lawyers were spinning a tale of mental illness and uncontrollable depraved actions all being brought on by an excess of video games. Betty and Daniel's lawyer was somewhat more restrained, and painted a picture of what had happened, featuring heavily on the physical and emotional trauma suffered by his clients.

Daniel was glad when the first day of opening statements was over. He found that sitting in such close proximity to Betty had drained him. His mother kept patting his arm whenever their lawyer, Preston Chilcott Esquire III had described their ordeal in his rich, melodious courtroom voice. Daniel had found that he was swept back in remembering particular details- how much the bindings on his arms had cut into his skin or how absolutely terrified he had been when Chuckles had nonchalantly shot at his feet in the hotel room. Bright little moments of terror that Daniel knew would revisit him in his nightmares.

The bailiffs escorted Chuckles out of the courtroom first. The man turned his head once to stare at Betty. Daniel saw her flinch and actually recoil from the man's hateful, cold gaze. Daniel had a sudden urge to crack his knuckles, but the prisoner didn't even look over at Daniel. It was like he was a nonperson.

The next few days were fairly boring as the defense trotted out just about every psudeo-doctor on the planet that was willing to testify that video game addiction had severe consequences. Daniel looked over at the jury a few times. He found that he was fascinated by them. These twelve people would decide whether or not this masochistic bastard was going to prison or not. He saw some eye-rolling, but also saw some nods of agreement. He felt the first stirrings of worry- what if this sick sonofabitch got off? What if there was no justice done?

Evidence was presented on the prosecutor's side. A catalogue of each one of their injuries was brought up. Daniel was shocked to find that his phone and email records had been viewed. And when he responded to his blackmailer and the bank statements that showed how much he had paid also came to light. His mother had stiffened besides him. He winced when her face tightened. He knew that he would be hearing about that too. It might have been stupid to try to keep it a secret- but it was _his_ secret. His shame. He twisted in his seat to glare at Officer Benson who was sitting two rows behind him. She gave sort of a shrug and stared him down. She raised an eyebrow.

_You can pout at me all you want prettyboy, but if there's something that I need to unearth in order to put this piece of trash down then I'm gonna find it._

Daniel turned back around in his seat, blushing a little to find Betty staring at him. He felt as though the events in the courtroom had drained away until they were the only two people in the room. Her eyes were wide and the smallest bit of the sheen of tears could be seen. They looked impossibly brown, warm like some bit of chocolate confection. He was lost, unable to look away. He swallowed so hard that he heard his throat make a clicking sound. He felt hot, then cold. Everything he'd done in the past few days came back to hit him almost like a physical punch to his gut. He started to open his mouth… he had to tell her. Had to. To apologize. To beg or grovel or …

"… to call Betty Suarez to the stand."

Daniel's head whipped towards the front of the courtroom so quickly he was surprised that he didn't sprain something in his neck. He saw Ignacio's hand tighten on Betty's and Daniel raised shame-filled eyes to the older man's sharp gaze. Betty's heels seemed extremely loud as she walked up to the stand. Daniel wanted to yell at his lawyer, and his mouth actually trembled with the need to speak. He felt a sharp pinch on his arm and his mother hissed, "sit down!" Daniel popped back into the chair as though she had yanked on a string. He had started to half-stand as Betty walked up there.

Daniel seated himself, noting that several people were looking from him, to Betty and back to him. He heard a snort and his eyes flew to Chuckles who sat there between his lawyers, watching the little tableau with a smirk on his face.

Daniel's blue eyes narrowed.

The next half an hour was possibly the most painful thing he had ever had to witness. Betty answered question after question, describing everything that had happened to her both times that Chuckles had gotten her alone. Daniel's gaze flew to the jury members. Most of them were watching Betty solemnly, like little children who just found out the bogeyman is real. Their eyes widened.

Betty's voice wasn't as emotionless this time around. Her voice caught, sped up as she relived a terror, shook as she took a deep breath to steady herself. Daniel finally quit looking around the room and met her gaze again. He was shamed to realize that he had been avoiding doing so. Betty met his eyes calmly, without breaking her story. When she got to the part about whaling Chuckles over the head with the Virgin Mary statue, there was a slow, measured clap from the defendant's table.

Chuckles was standing, smiling. He was applauding Betty with short staccato bursts of sound as his hands clasped each other. No one in the courtroom moved for a moment.

"Poor little ugly girl finally has some attention. You should thank me. You can probably make a reality show from all of this and retire rich as your little boyfriend."

"Control your client!" The judge snapped the words to the lawyer, who was ineffectually tugging on Chuckles' arm, trying to pull him down. The woman was known for being a shark in the court room but didn't seem to be overly shark-like now.

Chuckles turned so that he was facing the jury, as though performing for an audience. He gave his hips a little gyrating thrust, and Daniel heard sounds of disgust as people realized that he was hard. Chuckles rudely grabbed himself and shook his hand towards the front of the courtroom. He adjusted himself and spoke to Betty. "I bet you love coming in here and having to retell everything again. Does it get you hot? You know I kept that little tape of you and your buddy here. Watching you fuck him was better than porn. Girls like you are always so grateful to be fucked that you just become…"

Daniel, when asked later, couldn't remember doing it. He didn't hear the Judge yelling, or the banging of his gavel. He didn't notice the outraged looks or disgusted sounds the people in the room were making. One second he was listening to the kidnapper's filth and watching what color was in Betty's face drain away, and the next he had vaulted over the little half wall that kept the watchers separate from the court proceedings.

He forgot that he sucked at fighting.

He forgot that he was in the middle of a courtroom.

He forgot that he had seen this man brutally shoot his friend and bury the body.

He forgot that there was a trial in progress.

The hard, meaty sound of his fist connecting with Chuckles' jaw was all Daniel heard. Bright pain traveled up his fist as he felt the knuckles split. Chuckles' face rocked back and then Daniel had tackled him, using the momentum from his rush to send him sprawling back over the table on to the floor. The other man swung, and Daniel felt his own head rock back. He felt blood trickle out of his mouth but didn't care. His knee had landed on Chuckles' stomach and he ground down, viciously taking pleasure in the other man's grunt of pain.

Daniel followed with his fists, pounding one then the other at the other man's face. He had never been so infuriated in his life. Everything that had happened, he took out on that man's smug face. He could hear a mad, giggling sound and realized it was coming from Chuckles. He felt someone try to pull him off of the other man. Daniel didn't even realize that he had kicked out, until he heard another grunt and a crash. Chuckles took advantage of Daniel's preoccupation, and Daniel's whole world exploded in pain. It was like he could see the sun flashing in red and yellow bursts behind his eyelids. The pain radiated from his nose.

Daniel snarled something and redoubled his efforts, grabbing the other man's hair and slamming his head into the linoleum. He followed with his elbow and felt Chuckles' teeth split his own flesh. He was able to punch him three more times before they manhandled him off of the other man. Daniel was still crazy with fury and kept trying to lunge back to where Chuckles sat slouched on the floor, looking up at Daniel and still giggling.

Daniel finally relaxed enough that they could put the handcuffs on him. His mother, Hilda, and Ignacio were staring at him with wide eyes and dumbfounded expressions. It looked as though someone had snuck up behind the three of them and goosed everyone.

Daniel's gaze traveled to the jury members, his lawyer, and finally Betty who sat in the witness stand, clutching the railing and staring at him as though she didn't know who he was.

She wouldn't meet his eyes.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

 When the phone woke him in the middle of the night Daniel almost didn't answer it. He had been given some Vicodin by his doctor and was in one of those sleeps that feel like they're a coma. He woke up slowly and had to feel in the dark for the phone. He heard something fall over on his little nightstand and crash into something else.

"'Lo?" He squinted blearily at his clock. He had two black eyes and a broken nose that had been set but still hurt like a stone bastard if he forgot and scratched it or something. His knuckles had been split and the nurse on call had apparently had a sense of humor because she had put three Elmo band-aids on them. Other than that he had gotten off fairly easily… except for the assault and battery charges; which was kind of ironic if he thought about it hard enough.

The trial had finished fairly quickly after that. The jury had deliberated for all of 45 minutes. Chuckles, or Michael Andrews, had been found guilty on all charges and would be going to prison for a very long time. Daniel had been kept from going to jail. His mother had come in later and fussed over his injuries which kind of killed his manly, testosterone-driven mood. She had said their lawyer was mumbling something under his breath about the judge acting unprofessional in letting Chuckles go on and on taunting Betty for so long that he highly doubted that Daniel would see any jail time.

"Daniel Meade?"

"Hmm?" Daniel woke up enough to focus on the call.

"Sir? I'm sorry to have to tell you this but… there's been an accident. You're listed as her next of kin."

Daniel's heart started to pound. He was suddenly wide awake.

"My mom? Claire M-M-Meade? Or is it… my sister? Alexis?"

"No sir…"

Daniel's eyes drifted shut as though he had been punched. He knew what the disembodied voice on the phone was going to say before he said it.

"It's Betty Suarez. There's been an accident."

Daniel couldn't have told anyone how he made it to the hospital so quickly. He ran into the emergency room and demanded to see Betty but was told that they couldn't give out any information. Daniel gave his personal information and told the nurse that he had been called. The nurse, who seemed inordinately frazzled, indicated the busy waiting room. Daniel sat down looking around. There had evidently been some sort of severe car accident because the waiting room was packed. He saw some people wounded and when he saw their injuries he became even more scared for Betty - he knew they took in the most life threatening first.

 _He sat there a moment. Enough is enough. Just go in there. They're so busy and understaffed that no one will even notice._ He looked around a little more carefully and made his decision.

Sneaking through the double doors was simplicity itself. He peeked into the first area he saw and saw a team of doctors and nurses working on a young black man wearing motorcycle leathers.

Daniel heard a commotion to his left and turned to look. Again, it was as though he knew what was going to happen, mere nanoseconds before it happened. Doctors were working fiendishly. He noticed blood, a lot of blood, trickling slowly down the blue sheets onto the floor. The blindingly white florescent lights cast no shadows on the table. Blood was everywhere. Daniel felt weak as he saw the long, black hair, matted with the stuff. He stood there stupidly, not understanding what he was seeing. Doctors running to and fro. Nurses yelling something while staring at a machine that had three flat lines. A sound. Long, mono-toned. ….

 _Why were they walking away? Wait… What?_ Some nurse stretched a blue tarp-like blanket over her. Again the strange thought occurred to him- _At least she'll be warm…._

He felt himself take a step forward. Then another. The steps were slow and measured. It was like he was expecting the outcome to be different as long as he walked slowly enough for God to change his mind. _Oh, I see that I goofed. Let me fix that real quick. Good thing you're walking slow, Daniel._ Doctors and nurses gave Daniel some strange looks but were familiar enough with the various stages of grief that they didn't bother him. One thought ricocheted around in his head.

_You coward. You never told her._

He swallowed his nausea. The blue blanket was bright red in places and part of her body could be discerned under the cover. Daniel grabbed the wall for support.

"Betty… I… I… love you…" The words were so choked that they sounded garbled. A nurse gave him a sad look and stepped back to give him some privacy. All at once it was too much. The room tilted crazily. Daniel felt himself pitch forward in a faint.

* * *

Daniel sat straight up in bed with his heart pounding hard enough that he could feel its echoing pulse in his aching nose. His eyes were wide open. He grabbed his chest and looked around frantically. He was sweating, covered in it; drenched as though the sprinklers had gone off in his room. He turned over onto his side and fumbled for his phone. He heard a bottle crash onto the floor with a loud explosion, like a small bomb. The sickening stench of very expensive scotch floated up. Daniel's stomach clenched. With shaking hands he looked at his phone. It took him two attempts to push the button.

No calls.

Oh thank god. Oh thank you god.

It had only been a dream.

All at once the fumes of the alcohol seemed to choke him. He had the presence of mind to get off on the far side of the bed so that he didn't slip or cut his feet, but that was about it. He stumbled once against the door frame, barking his toe painfully on the door. He hardly even noticed before he was on his knees on the cool linoleum, retching pitifully. He flushed the handle with a shaking hand and noticed that he was still clutching his phone in his palm. Compulsively he checked his calls again. No. No calls. Just a dream. It was just a dream. He spit a few times and flushed again, slumping against the porcelain, staring at his shower curtain. It was bright red and he kept flashing back to his dream and seeing the blood on…

"No! Stop it!" Great. Now he was talking to himself. Daniel wasn't a dream interpreter by any stretch of the imagination, but even he could figure out what his subconscious was telling him. He squeezed his eyes shut and heaved himself up to his feet. He had to use the sink to make it up all the way. He set his phone out of the way (no calls. Justadream) and brushed his teeth. He furtively caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked like shit. Old. Bloodshot eyes, little red lines on his nose from the drinking, unshaven, sweaty, matted hair, miserable.

Daniel walked out into his bedroom. The room looked about as great as he did. Old clothes, crumpled and wrinkled with God-knows-what on them lay strewn around the floor. The covers had been kicked off. The fitted sheet was half off of the mattress. The pillows looked stained. Some of the items on his nightstand were on the floor buried under clothes. The smell of alcohol was so thick that he felt as though he could cut it.

_Ew._

Daniel turned back around and looked to the rest of his apartment. It didn't look much better. Sort of how it had been when Sophia had treated him so horribly, only about ten times worse. He would need a shovel and a haz-mat suit to find his couch. He walked back into the bathroom being careful not to look at himself in the mirror. He wanted to take a shower but felt his skin crawl at the idea of being near the shower curtain.

"Quit being such a damn baby." He hissed the words under his breath, took a deep breath, and got into the shower. The soap felt wonderful; the hot, steamy water like heaven itself. Apparently he hadn't exactly been spending a lot of time with grooming while he was ... out of it. He cursed when the hot water hit his sore face but relished the pain. It was as though each uncomfortable minute woke him up more. He had to do something about... well everything. His life. The mess he seemed to have made of his life. As if on cue, he heard the little tone that signified that he had a voice mail. Daniel finished his shower but didn't see any clean towels. He shook off the water he could, dried his hand on the outside of the shower curtain, and grabbed his phone which was still on the counter. It was his mom.

_Don't forget. Dinner tonight at 7. YOU PROMISED._

Daniel winced. He knew that his mother was having a little dinner party and he had promised to be there. He remembered that very clearly swimming up out of the alcohol-induced fog he'd been in for the past several weeks. But he felt too raw, too disgusting, to go out looking like he did. Even to his mother's house.

_Wuss._

Daniel rolled his eyes then realized that he was rolling his eyes at his own inner voice. "Sad. You've lost your damn mind. So call and get one of the usual girls to get me in. You are the great" he scoffed, looking at his wrecked face in the steam-covered mirror, "Daniel Meade." Then he could call the service to come and clean his apartment. If he had any luck, they would both be done at the same time and he could come home to a clean apartment. He searched through his contact list for the number and spoke to the receptionist. "You might have to bring some.. well. Some back-up. The apartment is pretty gross." The cultured voice on the other end of the phone assured him that it couldn't be so. "Yeah, well, I'll need the full service; as soon as you can please. I'll be more than happy to include a bonus."

He made the other phone call while he was thinking about it. "Hello, Giselle. Daniel Meade here. I need you to fit me in today. Within the next hour or so if you can manage it." Daniel forced a smile into his voice. The accented voice on the other end said something about checking the calendar. Daniel tried not to roll his eyes. They could always get him in. Frankly, he didn't much care if some other poor schlub had to get bucked out of line. Sometimes his money and influence worked wonders. So be it. If he had to face his mother and come clean on all of his bad behavior of late, then he could jolly well do it after spending three or four hours at the spa.

He decided to walk. It was easy enough to don sweats, just about the only thing he had clean,, a jacket and a pair of Ray-Bans to hide his eyes for the walk to the establishment. God knew all he needed was some asshat with a camera catching him looking like hell. That would be on page six within the hour. Hell, his mother would probably read it to him over the third course. Daniel had taken some Advil and forced down a somewhat suspicious smelling piece of toast to try to quell his jumpy stomach and aching head.

Now that he was awake and more or less coherent the dream didn't seem so vivid. Still horrible that he could come up with something like that... Daniel shrugged and smirked. No self-respecting Meade would ever do anything by halves, even dream. He balled his fists in his pockets and walked a little faster. _Okay so enough is enough, yeah? No more acting like an ass._ Tonight at dinner you apologize to Mom and try to explain what was going on. He wrinkled his forehead trying to plan what he would say. 'Betty was sleeping with someone else while she was supposed to be with me. It's not fair! I love her and she should love me back!' Daniel couldn't help cringing. Yeah, saying that to his mom would have a wonderful effect of the full force of her sarcasm and wit. He could see it now. She would draw herself up to her full 5'8". The eyebrow would be raised. The lips would be compressed into a thin, pale line. Every single disappointing thing he'd ever done since he was a zygote would magically shine out of her eyes sending him on the guilt trip of his life. "Not _fair,_ Daniel?" The voice would be cold and bloodless, the one she used whenever Bradford had come home smelling of Faye. Daniel shuddered. Ugh. Not cool.

The spa, which was cannily entiled THE SPA, was only about three blocks from his apartment. That was one of the reasons he went there. The other was that all the employees were female, extremely beautiful, and usually willing to do anything to make sure their clients were relaxed. The thought made him duck his head into his shoulders. The thought of Annabel or Marissa doing anything to him was revolting. Daniel nodded at the doorman who opened the door for him.

" _Bon apres-midi._ May I help you?" The receptionist looked bored. She was idly flipping through a magazine. "Sorry, we only book by appoint-"

"Giselle. It's me." Daniel took off the hat and glasses.

" _Mon Dieu_!" Giselle, who looked like she could have worked at MODE with her perfect makeup and stylish clothes, stared at Daniel like she couldn't believe who was in front of her. "Mr... Mr... Meade? What have you done to yourself?" Her French "accent" let a lot more Bronx in as she spoke. Daniel fought off a smile. "Now, Giselle," he chided, "can you see if Stephan will see me for a moment? I really need to be seen today." he held out his hands as if to say, 'See? Look at me...'

All at once she became the professional receptionist again. " _Certainement!_ I shall see if he is available. Have a seat, _sil'vous plait_." She murmured into her phone, casting glances at him over the desk.

Daniel sat and tilted his head against the headrest, feeling his headache come back. God, he was so tired. He must have dozed off for a moment because when his shoulder was touched gently he started up out of his seat.

"Excuse me, Mr. Meade? If you would just come this way..." Stephan Marlowe, the owner of the establishment stood back and gestured for Daniel to follow him through the doors. It took him a couple of tries to get all the way standing up but he made it. He followed the older man into the back.

"Mr. Meade. How good to see you. What can I do to help?" Stephan was always the most urbane of proprietors. He was dressed implacably and looked mildly pleased to see him, as though he didn't just interrupt several weeks of standing appointments. It didn't seem to faze him that some of his workers massaged a little more than sore muscles. Daniel sighed and told him what he wanted, although it was fairly obvious.

"I think I'm going to need the works, Stephan. I have a very important engagement," he looked at his watch, "four hours from now. Not the usual... maybe we could start with a body wrap and go from there?" Stephan nodded calmly, and had Daniel follow him into a room. "Your massage therapist will be with you momentarily."

Daniel stripped and kicked his sweats to the side of the room. He wrapped himself in the thick, white terry-cloth towel and idly picked up the newspaper that had been left on a small table. He turned to page six and almost had a heart attack. There was a picture in full color of Matt... and some woman he had never seen before. The headline fairly screamed "Heir to Fortune Engaged to Connecticut Débutante".

Daniel felt hot, then cold, as he stared down at the picture of the two smiling into each other's eyes.

"Mr. Meade?"

Daniel almost jumped out of the towel.

He tossed the paper down before he had a chance to read it as though he had been caught doing something icky with it. "Um. Yes? Yes... sorry about that." He forced a smile at the tall woman who stood just inside the room. She was dressed in white slacks and a white short sleeved blouse. He could see that she was fit, but many masseuses were, at least with their upper bodies. Her hair was pulled back into a sensible bun and she wore half-moon glasses.

"No problem, sir. Shall we get started? You look quite stressed, if you don't mind my saying so." She crossed over to the table and lifted the bin that kept the towels hot. She took three large ones and placed them onto the table so that she could wrap the ends around him. Daniel hopped up and hissed a little at the steam. He stretched out and tossed the towel he was wearing out to the side. It took a little while to get that rather sensitive bit of his body used to the hotness of the towel underneath him but he managed. He stretched out and sighed as the woman started to smooth a much thinner, gauzier sheet onto his back.

"Hmm. I think we'll go with lemon oil and sandalwood. Maybe a little mint for your nose."

Daniel nodded and put his head onto his folded arms. She spritzed the oils onto the sheet so that they soaked through, mixing together with a scent that was like a punch to the gut. She quickly took two more towels and wrapped them over his back, rear end, and legs, securing everything so that he was in a cocoon-like state, except for his feet, arms and shoulders. With the steam of the towels and the scent from the oils drifting around him, Daniel felt his body start to relax for the first time in what seemed like months.

"I'll be back later, Mr. Meade."

"Okay, thanks... um..."

"Ginny."

"Sorry. Thank you very much, Ginny."

He turned his head on his arms and caught sight of the newspaper again. He could actually feel his heart seize up. If Matt was engaged to someone else then he wasn't with Betty anymore! Daniel felt the grin start to stretch his lips- until he remembered that he'd pretty much made it impossible for her to feel anything for him- even mild affection. He sighed and closed his eyes. _Way to go, Meade. Make an impossible situation even more impossible._ The smell of the sandalwood and lemon floated up in the steam from the towels. Daniel knew this wasn't really the proper body wrap- more like a way to soften the skin and use some of the aromatherapy. He dozed again until Ginny came back with the mud supplies.

He was wrapped and left to relax for another fifteen minutes or so. When she came back again she started the manicure. The pedicure seemed to actually cause her physical pain. She was professional about cleaning up his feet but kept making these little sorrowful sounds. Daniel was just pleased that she didn't tickle him. He hated that.

He was left to shower the mud off of him. The water was cool enough after the heat wraps and hot mud that he couldn't help but shiver a little. Supposedly it was meant to do something for his pores. Whatever, he felt half-frozen by the time he got out. He saw Ginny holding a new towel for him to cover up with and he settled back down onto the table for his massage.

He winced when he heard her crack her knuckles and couldn't help but cry out when she started to dig into the muscles of his calves. Ginny was merciless, searching out each muscle for the deep muscle massage and forcing it into whatever shape she wanted it to be in. It hurt! Yet, strangely, the pain helped him think. He needed some sort of plan. His dream had made him realize that he was being a complete ass about Betty. So she was pregnant with Matt's kid. She had cared for him at one point, and if he was lucky, maybe he could rekindle some of that. If Matt and Betty weren't together anymore then maybe... just maybe... he had a chance to fix this.

First, he'd have to apologize to his mother. Possibly grovel. On broken glass. Then maybe she could help him figure out what to do next. Ginny found a particularly painful muscle in his shoulder and he sucked in his breath.

"Sir? Are you okay there?" Her voice seemed to imply that he was the biggest wimp in the universe.

"Yes. Fine," Daniel gasped. "How are you going to do the facial with the broken nose?"

"Hm. Very carefully. I think if we avoid the area under your eyes, and your nose with the heavy mud you will be okay. Some of the oils will actually be quite beneficial to you, possible repair some of the blemished skin." She reached his neck and dug what felt like red-hot iron pokers into the skin there. He heard things pop and blew out the breath all at once.

"Okay, turn over."

Daniel was a little nervous, but did so. There was a trick to getting a massage without making it more intimate than it needed to be. Nothing was more embarrassing than having your thing waving _hello_. Ginny didn't make eye contact and was very focused on her task. She started at his collarbone and worked her way down. Daniel just closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.

Eventually, she removed her hands from his ankles and cleared her throat. "Well, Mr. Meade, why don't you use that robe over there, and we'll get your face done. Then, a few minutes in the sauna and you'll be set."

"Thanks."

She gave him some privacy and he slipped into the robe. He felt so much better already. There weren't any mirrors in the little treatment room, but his body felt so much more relaxed that he felt like a new person. Ginny gave the door a little knock and came in holding the materials for the facial. Daniel sat in one of the chairs again and closed his eyes. She was extremely gentle when she applied the mix of honey, cucumber, and cactus cream. He sat there while the mixture worked, and planned what his next step would be. He normally would bring wine and flowers to a dinner engagement, but since his mother was not drinking and she was mad enough that he was afraid that she would throw the flowers at him he knew he had to do something else. Candy? Naaah. He had at least an hour or so to think of something better.

* * *

Betty was nervous. Her father had told her that Claire had invited them over to her home for a dinner party. Ignacio had waited until they were on the doorstep before casually mentioning that Daniel had been invited too. Betty hadn't seen him since he fought with Chuckles in the courtroom. It had been four days. Four days of worrying about him. Four days of reliving that moment over and over, watching the bailiffs hurry up from the back and sides of the courtroom to subdue Chuckles when he started mocking the jury. Four days of watching the purely murderous look in Daniel's eyes as he swung and pounded on the other man.

She didn't understand his reasoning behind the fight. It had been horrible and vile but Chuckles' speech had sent the mostly mild-mannered Daniel crazy. Knowing that he would be here tonight worried her. Hilda and Justin were behind them on the doorstep. Hilda touched Betty's back and whispered low, "Don't worry. If I have to sit on him, he's gonna hear what you have to say." That was the trouble. Betty wasn't sure what it was that she was going to say. She didn't want money or for Daniel to come back later and decide that he wanted to be a proud papa and take her child away from her. A month ago, Betty would have said unequivocally that there was no way that Daniel could ever be so cruel as to take a baby away from its mother. Now, well. She didn't know this strange, brittle Daniel from the past few weeks. She had seen a lawyer friend of Archie's, and had some papers drafted for Daniel to sign. Hilda seemed to think that this needed to be taken care of immediately. Betty would have preferred to wait awhile... say a few twenty years or so.

The door opened and Claire smiled at them. "Hello! Oh, you guys look frozen. Come on in, please!" She stepped aside and escorted them to a living room. A uniformed woman appeared as though summoned, and offered them all drinks. Betty thought she saw Claire's eyes narrow when Betty requested a club soda instead of anything alcoholic, but when she looked up at the older woman, her attention was turned to something Ignacio was saying. Betty sipped her drink, grateful for the bubbles that settled her stomach. She had a pounding headache and that certainly wasn't helping her nerves any.

"So, is it just us then?" Hilda's question brought a raised eyebrow and cool look from Claire.

"No, Daniel is running a bit late. Something about a problem with his cleaning service. I expect him in about twenty minutes. Why?"

Betty recognized the somewhat calculating look on Hilda's face. She quickly stifled it and took a sip of her red wine to cover her emotions.

_What was going on?_

The five people chatted about all kinds of different topics. Claire seemed really interested in Justin's new Performing Arts high school and Justin was over the moon to have someone to tell the story of how he got in - to someone who hadn't already heard it three times.

The maid cleared her throat discretely and Claire clapped her hands with delight. "Time for dinner!" The Suarezes were walking en masse to the dining room when Betty heard the sound of the door opening.

"Mom?"

 _Daniel's voice. Oh God, she couldn't do this._ She didn't know what to say in this kind of situation. The closest she had ever come was watching too much _Days of our Lives_. Henry and Walter... heck, even _Gio_ hadn't prepared her for this! Betty took the coward's way out, hastening her steps on down the hallway and into the dining room. She was very careful to sit in-between her father and Justin.

"Ah, Daniel!" Claire seemed overjoyed to see him. Betty was staring at her china plate but smelled Daniel's cologne as he walked near her to come and kiss his mother's cheek.

Justin spoke up. "Oh, Daniel.. I'm sorry. Why don't you sit here by your mom? She mentioned that she hadn't seen you in awhile." He jumped up and moved around to sit diagonal from Betty. She glared daggers at her nephew. She should have suspected that he would do something like this. He didn't like that Betty and Daniel were no longer friends. He grinned unabashedly at her and grunted when Betty kicked him under the table, smiling beatifically at her through a slight grimace of pain.

"Ah, oh. Okay. Thanks Justin." Betty forgot to breathe when she felt him sit next to her. Their arms brushed for a moment and both of them jerked apart as though they had been electrocuted. She could feel the heat of him and all at once had a sensory memory of him over her that was so powerful that she knew she was blushing.

"May I serve, Ma'am?"

"Yes, thanks. That will be lovely. Daniel. I couldn't help but notice that you are looking much better than the last time I saw you. How do you feel?"

"Ah.. fine. My nose is a little sore if I forget and scratch, but it looks worse than it feels."

Justin piped up. "You sure kicked that guy's ass. It was awesome!"

"Justin!" Hilda hissed, and Justin jumped as though he had received another kick under the table.

"Ow! What? He did look totally cool pounding that guy to a pulp."

Hilda sighed. "We'll discuss it later. Now let the adults talk."

Justin rolled his eyes. The room was silent for a few minutes as the maid rolled the dinner tray up to the table. She served dishes that were actually covered with silver domes. Betty hid a grin. She remembered all at once discussing fashion and opera, and that one moment of confidence made her feel better about the situation she now found herself in.

Ignacio served everyone food and for a few minutes there were only the sounds of silverware clinking against plates and chewing.

"So, uh. Mom. I thought you said that you had invited those people from the Review? And Random House?"

Betty sat straight up in her chair. She turned to stare at Claire, shocked. She could see Daniel out of the side of her gaze but his head was turned to his mother.

"Well, I changed the plans somewhat. I thought instead," Claire took a bite of her fish, chewed and swallowed daintily, "that we could discuss my first grandchild."

Betty thought her heart would stop. She heard Daniel's swift intake of breath. There was a clatter of silverware and a strangled sound from her father's end of the table. Daniel turned to look at her. All at once she was staring at his furious blue gaze. Betty blinked, appalled. Daniel's hand came down on her arm much more gently than his gaze warranted.

_Why was he so... angry?_

"Actually, Betty and I need to talk. You guys, please excuse me. Us. We'll be back in a little while."

Ignacio started to stand. "I think you better let go of her, Daniel."

Betty was astounded that she could find the voice to reassure her father. "No, Papi. It's okay. We probably do need to talk about some stuff." _Politics. The plight of the South Venezuelan Tree Frog. Their child. Yeah.. stuff._

She let Daniel lead her away from the dining room and up the stairs.

"Daniel... wait. Wait!" She jerked her arm out of his hand. He was going so quickly up the staircase that he was practically running. Betty refused to run but he had been pulling her along behind him. He whirled all at once, and Betty jerked back, thinking for a moment that he was going to hit her.

Her reaction startled Daniel out of his anger. He took a deep breath and she watched as he forcibly took a hold of his emotions.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

Betty stood there on the staircase looking up at Daniel. She watched has he took several deep breaths, going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose, then wince when he remembered it was broken.

"Yeah I'm sorry that I yanked you around like that. I didn't mean to grab you. But we… I need to…." He blew out a frustrated breath, sending the hair on his forehead fluttering. "Can we talk? Please?"

Betty stood there for a moment with her arms crossed over her chest. She cupped her elbows. _Well, this was it: Time to put up or shut up, I suppose._ "Okay." Her voice came out raspy and lower than her normal tone.

She thought she saw Daniel shiver. He turned and looked at the shut doors on the landing- seeming to just now realize where he was. "Here. We can go in here." He held the door open for her, and let her precede him into the room. Betty jumped as his hand ghosted down over the wall, hitting the light switch. The gloomy room was suddenly bathed in a glow of soft light.

Betty looked around. They were in a sitting room of some sort. There was a fireplace with two extremely comfortable looking chairs in front of it. An over-sized chaise sat against one wall, under a large window. White, gauzy curtains hung over the window, muting the shine through the window of the harsh lights from outside. There was a small wet bar across from the chaise, tastefully hidden in a corner. Daniel crossed to this immediately and stood there for a moment with his hands clenched over the side of the bar.

"Would you like something to drink?" the words seemed forced out of clenched teeth. "Club soda? Sprite?"

Betty found herself starting to get a little irked. What was _his_ problem? He was acting as though _she_ was in some way in the wrong here; that he hadn't been the Class-A jackass in the room. "No thanks." Her voice was still that raspy whisper-like sound. She forced herself to not show any of the trepidation she was feeling in her voice as she spoke. Betty watched dispassionately as Daniel made himself a drink. She was kind of surprised that he didn't go straight for the alcohol, instead pouring himself what looked like a soda. Betty was surprised when he spoke without looking at her.

"How could you do that?" He whispered.

Betty felt her mouth drop open.

"How could you…..? I just don't understand. It's like… you changed. But to make my mom think that… I mean you know that Alexis can't give her…"

"Daniel, what in the hell are you talking about?" She felt her fists clench on top of her skirt. "How could I what, exactly?" He still wouldn't look at her. She didn't understand what he was babbling about, but he sounded tortured- gasping out choppy sentences as though he had to force himself to speak.

She saw him take a large gulp of the drink. He set it down on the counter. It rattled against the surface, the ice seeming to shake in the small container.

"How could you… go from me to … Matt?"

Betty's heart gave a funny little wiggle. She just sat there for a moment, unable to speak. _What?_

Daniel continued as though his words hadn't figuratively just punched her in the stomach. "How could you make my mother think that she's going to be a grandmother? She's been through so much with Alexis and the company, and God, I've put her through a special brand of hell all by myself…. She doesn't seem very fragile, I know. But she is. But… But…. How _could_ you?"

Betty thought her heart would stop for a moment. She sat there, listening to each halting, pain-filled word and was simply stunned that he could think she would be capable of doing such a thing. She found that one hand had unclenched and was splayed on her chest, as though she could hold her heart in place. She felt as though it was slithering down to her toes. She wanted to run out of the room, down those stairs and disappear into the night.

* * *

Ignacio was pacing. He had given up the possibility of eating, and was pacing off to the side, muttering darkly under his breath. Claire ignored him, placidly finishing her food. Hilda and Justin ate slowly, watching Ignacio's pacing and then swinging their gazes to Claire who sat there with a small smirk on her elegant face, darting occasional glances upstairs through the ceiling. She swallowed, blotted her lips daintily with the cloth napkin, and beckoned Justin to her. She whispered something to him, turning so that Hilda couldn't see. Claire handed the boy something, and Hilda saw his whole face light up with an unholy sort of glee. She raised an eyebrow at the older woman.

Justin pelted off. Ignacio didn't notice the small exchange. It sounded as though he was contemplating Daniel's ancestry. Hilda was quite glad that Claire didn't speak Spanish. She was certain her father had mentioned two different types of goat … and a chipmunk.

Justin came back downstairs and flashed a thumbs-up to Claire. Hilda smiled to herself. That Claire was one tricky old broad. She saw her son's dark head bent conspiratorially towards Claire's light blonde one. A wave of love so strong hit her as she saw his flash of a smug grin that she felt her eyes prickle with unshed tears. She suddenly missed her mom so much it was a physical shock to the system. Betty deserved a chance to be in this family. She was pleased that Claire and her son seemed to agree on whatever it was that they agreed on. She liked the idea of Justin having some sort of Grandmother figure. God knew Santos' mother never acknowledged that Justin existed. Tactfully, she changed the subject and started on her desert, idly wondering exactly what it was that her son and Daniel's mother had planned.

* * *

Daniel thought that if he clutched the glass any tighter it would shatter in his hand. He had heard one swift indrawn breath of air from Betty, and then nothing for several minutes. He turned when he felt her running by him. Oh hell no. No way was she getting out of this. He turned, completely forgetting that he held a whiskey tumbler full of ice and coke and caught up with her at the door. The room was fairly large, but it wasn't big enough. Her hand turned the doorknob once and he was there, slapping his empty hand against the door. His body was flush against hers as he held the door shut. Daniel ignored the way every cell in his body seemed to leap at the feel of her body heat.

Well, tried to anyway.

"Oh no. You don't get to leave that easily. I want an answer! How could you do that, Betty?"

Daniel was absolutely astounded when he felt her turn to face him. Her face was white. Her eyes glittered, not with tears as he had thought, but with pure, undiluted fury. He was even more shocked when he felt her hands come up and push on his shoulders.

Daniel was so surprised that she would push him that he had taken a step back before he realized that she was speaking, the words forced out between clenched teeth.

"—complete utter idiot. How dare you? How _dare_ you think that I would mislead anyone like that? That I would lie to your mother? Or Matt? Or to _you?_ "

Daniel stared at her, gob-smacked. He felt her push him again, and he lost his balance a little, staggering back more than he had anticipated. Betty followed him, keeping in his body space- pushing him back across the room with every heated word, every heated step.

"I tried to tell you! Damn you. I _tried!_ And you were too busy being horrible and s-sleeping around to listen!"

She dashed furious tears out of her eyes, and gave one hard push, so that Daniel fell back onto the chaise, sprawled there looking up at her like an idiot.

"I've never slept with Matt! How could you think that? I'm not _you_!"

Her words seemed to echo strangely in the room. She stood there glaring down at him. Daniel counted several breaths as he stared up at her. Betty's glasses were askew from wiping under the lenses. Her hands were balled into fists onto her hips. She was breathing hard. Two bright red flags of anger stained her cheeks. Daniel could literally not move. He just stared up at her in complete shock. Her words didn't make any sense! How could she have not slept with Matt? That's ridiculous. She was preg... preg….

_Oh._

Daniel heard a click as several things fell into place at once. The glass fell from his hand and shattered onto the hardwood floor. The sound was like a small bomb going off. He saw the glass fan out in a circular pattern of ice, liquid and broken glass.

He hardly noticed. He felt hot all at once, as though all the blood in his body had decided to rush to his face at the same time. He still couldn't move. Inanely, he remembered her trying to talk to him the night he had called her while in bed with Alicia… Alieen… well, whoever she was. He flashed back to the bitter fury in his voice and the bewildered hurt in hers.

_"I do have something to tell you."_

_"Do you really think that I don't know?"_

" _Oh. Did Hilda call you?"_

" _No. I really have no interest in speaking with your sister. As for your little news…. I don't care. It's really has nothing to do with me."_

_Then the small click as she hung up the phone._

Betty made a strangled, disgusted sound out of the back of her throat and turned to leave the room. Daniel watched her walking away from him again. She walked as though he had defeated her with his cowardice and stupidity. He saw her hand turn on the doorknob again and all of the sudden felt bone cold. He knew, knew that if she walked out of the door this time he would never see her again.

He couldn't ever see her again.

"No-wait!" She paused. "Don't…. please. Please don't leave." He heard his shoe crunch on the broken glass, and realized that he had jumped up, taken a step forward and had reached out as though he could stop her from going from across the room. Betty stood there with her back to him, shaking her head.

He swallowed hard, hearing something clicking in his throat. "Please. Betty…. Please?" He let his arm fall to his side, feeling like an idiot. Then he began to speak, as though words would keep her with him, syllables almost falling over themselves to get out of his mouth.

"I know I'm an idiot. You're right. And I have no excuse for how I've treated you, or for what I've done. But please, _please_ let me try to explain to you why. Then if you want to go- I won't… I won't stop you. Okay?"

He saw her rest her head against the door. Several moments seemed to click slowly by as she thought. "Okay."

Daniel ran his hands through his hair, thinking furiously of where to start. "When I realized you wanted me, I thought every Christmas I had ever had since I was a kid had come at once. I know, how melodramatic, right?" He took a breath, berating himself for starting with such an innocuous statement. "That night in my apartment…It was perfect. Amazing. I couldn't believe that you would … want me. As maybe more than a friend. Especially after you were kidnapped because of me! I know how this sounds, but that night was… what it's supposed to be. Not empty and cold, but so hot that... _God_." Daniel took a shaky breath, feeling a small spark of hope that she hadn't yet run screaming from the room. "And… then you were gone the next morning." His voice was shaky as he said the next. Somehow it was easier to speak to her when her back was to him- when he couldn't see her eyes. "It was pretty obvious that you thought we had made a mistake. I didn't get how something so perfect could be so one-sided. For me, it was though everything I had ever wished for had come true all at once, but for you…. I felt like I had taken advantage of you. Of the situation. And then there was that horrible conversation in the conference room…. And the press conference… and things were just happening too fast. I couldn't keep up." Daniel  knelt down and started picking up the glass shards, needing to have something to do with his hands.

He heard her take a shaky breath. Keeping his gaze on the floor, Daniel continued.

"That day someone sent me a video of us... um. Together. Making love. We were in my bedroom. They wanted money to not leak it to the press. And that was fine. I mean, I would have paid more, would have done anything to keep you from that humiliation. I didn't know at the time that it was Chuckles sending it- but it should have clicked. But my mind wasn't exactly on straight. I uh, I know that's not an excuse or anything. But I tend to react badly to stressful situations. Er... yeah." He cleared his throat ignoring what sounded like a stifled snort from the area of the doorway.

"Then you were attacked. You needed me. And it was amazing to be there for you. Of all the people that love you in your life, you wanted _me._ Then back at your place when I …saw. When I … I've never in my life felt like I could actually kill someone. Every bruise I saw on you and Jesus- when I saw his fucking _teeth_ …." Daniel felt his eyes burn again. His voice cracked, forcing him to clear his throat. "Being with you that night was so incredible. Part of me kept waiting for something to happen to screw it up. And… then the nurse called." He took a deep shuddering breath. His voice had lowered, a rough whisper as he forced himself to say the rest. "We had only been together that once, and it was a month ago. I swear it never even … I never believed that It never even occurred to me that I … "He took another shaky breath. "I thought that you had just been with me because you couldn't get Matt. Somehow with… everything… I had worked it in my head that you two were together. And what happened with you and me was some kind of… fluke."

His voice was now just above a whisper, a broken current of air forced out of a throat clenched against an emotional breakdown.

"I was so jealous. I couldn't even … function. I was drinking to try to stop feeling. I uh... drank a lot. And did some pretty horrible…" Everything he had done to her appeared with bright clarity like a slide show though his brain. Oh, God. "Betty… I'm… _sorry_."

Dimly he realized that he had cut himself with the glass. Daniel knelt there trying to speak against the lump of tears in his throat. He blinked furiously to try to get a hold of himself. He was so stupid. Such a fucking idiot. Did he really think that he could somehow manage to say something to make her stay? To forgive him? Daniel blinked hard when he saw a hand gently cup his. He looked up, shocked, having not heard her approach so focused he was on berating himself.

"You cut yourself."

Daniel was afraid to say anything else. He stared at her, kneeling down beside him, hair hiding her face from his. He nodded. That seemed safe. She was so close that when he moved his head, it brushed against the silky stands of her hair. The scent of vanilla caused his heart to almost spasm in his chest.

"I... uh… yeah."

She stood up and went to the wet bar, finding a small dustpan hanging in the cabinet. Daniel watched as she grabbed the small trash can and walked towards the mess on the floor. She cleaned it up then stood again, tugging him up by his hand. Daniel followed meekly- unable to process the fact that she was willingly touching him. Helping him. Taking care of him.

"Is that a bathroom?" Betty jerked her head towards the closed door in the other end of the room, partially hidden by one of the gauzy drapes.

Daniel nodded again. There wasn't much space in the small area. She reached out and flipped on the water. Betty ran his cut hand under the faucet, washing off the small amount of blood that had accumulated there. She pursed her lips and gently blew on the cut to dry it. Daniel thought he would stop breathing at the sight, then immediately berated himself for being a pervert. Betty didn't notice as she found a small band-aid to put over the wound. Daniel didn't know what to say. He was certain that if he opened his mouth again he would undo the miracle that had her staying in the room with him, listening to his ridiculous, miserable excuse for confession. He kept darting small glances at her from under his eyelashes, not sure if he should say more or wait for her to respond. At least she was still in the same room.

Betty left the bathroom and walked over to the chaise, seating herself and watching impassively as he walked towards her.

"Thanks." He spoke, tentatively. He watched as her left hand splayed protectively over her stomach. Daniel froze as his gaze narrowed on her fingers.

Her baby. Their. _Ohjesus._

Betty raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see the light dawns."

Daniel felt his knees give way. He staggered over to the other end of the small chaise, and collapsed staring at her with his mouth gaping open unattractively. He stretched out his hand slowly and then let it fall. He didn't have the right to assume anything, to assume that he was allowed to touch her. "The light might have sparked once earlier, but I don't think it hit me." He was amazed that he could speak so calmly while his brain was busy shrieking: _Baby! I'm a father a dad, a daddy-oh ohhhhh ohmigod She's having my baby... My. Baby!_

She snorted.

"Have you… been sick?" In this strange bizarro-world he now found himself in, Daniel was able to speak calmly and coherently as though he hasn't spent the previous ten minutes spilling his guts out.

"Some."

"Ah... uh... have you been to the doctor yet?"

"No. My appointment is next week."

The strangely calm Daniel felt the urge to grovel. He'd beg. Do whatever she wanted.

"Do you… want to come with me?"

He met her eyes for the first time in what seemed like hours. "Yes. I'd… I'd like that very much. So... um. Do you want to go back down to dinner?"

"Not particularly." She reached out to where his hand had fallen on his lap and pulled him over so that his large palm was on her stomach. "There's not much to feel yet." She said it almost apologetically.

Daniel couldn't speak again. They were quite for a moment with his hand gently against her. They were quiet for a few more minutes.

"I... I don't know if I forgive you. I need… to think about it. I think." Betty's words were soft. Daniel's blue gaze met her brown one. "I have papers that you can sign if you want. I imagine that... a responsibility like this is um, not… what you're used to. Your style of living. Um. I'll leave them with you to look over. You… don't have to decide anything right now."

"Papers?" Daniel's mind was reeling. It was his turn to give her a clueless look.

"So that you wouldn't have to... um. Worry. I'm not trying to get anything… out of you. Um, Money or … anything, really."

Daniel blinked. He watched as she straightened up. When she stood up his hand had fallen down to the tops of her thighs. . Daniel jerked his hand away as though burned.

"Were you… really… upset? When I left your apartment that morning? I thought that... uh. I was saving you from an awkward morning."

"Yes." Daniel managed to keep his voice even.

She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. He had turned his head to keep eye contact with Betty. Her words left little puffs of air on his lips. They were so close that when he responded, his own lips touched hers with the slightest of touches. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Was that whisper of sound his voice? "Nothing."

He shivered at the feel of her skin against hers. They were so close that he couldn't see her eyes; just a mass of soft brown, the color of extremely fine chocolate.

When she moved forward that last slight centimeter of space, Daniel felt his whole body clench with desire. He refused to move- to try to entice her into kissing him harder. Betty captured his lower lip with her own lips, and Daniel felt her flick her tongue against the outside briefly. She let him go and kissed him properly, bushing her lips against his lightly, then with more pressure until he couldn't stop himself from kissing her back. Her mouth opened over his and Daniel let out a shaky breath as he felt her tongue flick against the inside of his mouth, then pull away.

"You are an idiot, you know that right?" Her lips sipped from his again, preventing him from responding. Daniel was clenching his hands so tightly on his thighs that he was afraid he'd break something.

"Ye—ess..." The serrated sound came out more as a moan.

"You hurt me, Daniel." She pulled away from him far enough that she could look down at him solemnly. "You… broke my heart. I trusted you and you were… unkind." She spoke simply, matter-of-factly.

Daniel felt his own eyes drift shut in shame. He nodded again, unable to speak. He had. He had taken everything that they had and killed it because of his own jealousy and blind, stubborn, stupidity. He felt her tongue trace the seam of his lips again and his eyes flew open in shock. She sighed, and kissed him fully, meeting his slightly open mouth with hers. Their breaths met, mingled, and then pulled apart. Part of Daniel was blissful. The larger, slightly more intelligent part of his brain was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

_Don't say anything. Just shut up, for Fuck's sake. Go with whatever she wants. Do. Not. Screw. This Up._

He tried to sit there and let her decide what was going to happen, but at the taste of her he heard some half-desperate sound and realized it was coming from his own throat. They kissed again, and again was the same explosion of heat that had always happened whenever they managed to connect intimately. Daniel felt his whole body tighten with need. He felt like a starving man who suddenly found himself at a buffet. Daniel leaned over Betty, running his hands over her cheeks, down to her neck, over her shoulders, and back up to cup her head in his hands so that he could concentrate on kissing her properly. Daniel was surprised to feel a stab of pure possessiveness; with every kiss he knew that he was trying to make her his. _Mine. She is Mine. Not Matt's… not anyone's… Mine!_ He knew his caveman approach would probably get him a kick in the balls, but he couldn't seem to help it; Daniel knew that Betty with him, like this was what he wanted always. 

He just had to somehow convince _her._

He wanted to get closer, to feel her body flush against his. He craved the feel of her softness against the hard planes of his body. Daniel trailed his lips over her ear, sucking in his breath when he heard her passionate moan. He lightly flicked his tongue over the lobe and let the breath out in a sigh when her own hands locked onto his tight shoulders. Daniel kissed down the line of her neck, reminding himself what each inch of skin tasted like. He kissed back up to her lips; his heart pounding so loudly he could hear it as a strange percussive accompaniment to the sounds of them kissing in the quiet room.

So focused was he on the softness of her lips, that it took him a moment to realize that Betty's hands were pushing at his shoulders instead of pulling him closer.

He broke away from her in shock, and pulled back to stare at her. Daniel almost was too afraid to meet her eyes again; too many feelings were swirling around him. Passion, guilt, self-deprecation, hope… love. Daniel actually opened his mouth to tell her that he loved her, but managed to stop himself just in time. If he said it now, she would think that he only meant them as an apology and not seriously. He had barely ever said them before. When he did, he wanted it to be special.

"I can't keep my hands off of you."

Daniel shut his mouth with a small 'pop' of sound at her whisper.

"That's the problem. I don't think I can sleep with someone that I don't trust. Not… again." He watched as her lips quirked in a funny little smile. "Which is a shame, because …. That night at my apartment was a really long time ago."

Daniel blinked. Then found himself blushing at the words of this strange sort of self-assured Betty that sat next to him. He took a deep breath, trying to be casual about the state of his body and think about her words.

"I can't blame you," he said.

"Mhmmm..." She shifted back on the chaise and turned so that she was facing him. Her own gaze darted across his aroused body and flicked back up to his steady gaze. Some emotion flitted across her features, but it was gone too quickly for Daniel to identify. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good because he could almost see her shutting down in front of him.

"Betty?" The hesitant sound of her name caused her lips to tighten.

"I can't help how I feel. I just need… awhile to process what you've said. I'm sorry that I kissed you. I know I'm acting strange. I'm probably confusing you to no end."

"I don't know about that. I think that any way you act is exactly the right thing to do. You're right. I wish I had something that I could say that would make what I thought and how I acted vanish, but there isn't."

"No… there isn't."

They were both speaking calmly, as though nothing was wrong. Daniel was carefully not thinking about his apology, or what he had said… or the fact that he was a _father_. He was too afraid that if he let any of those rather life-altering thoughts out of the background of his mind then he would throw himself at her feet and start to babble. Instead, he concentrated on how they sat; bodies turned slightly into each other, sitting on opposite sides of the chaise in almost the exact same positions as when he and Betty had played Truth or Dare- a fact that was not lost on either of them.

They were silent for several minutes.

"Do you think that you will ever trust me again?"

Daniel's whisper caused Betty to sharply draw in her breath.

"I… I don't know."

* * *

Ignacio had had enough of dinner. And of pacing. Hilda, Justin, and Claire had finished desert and had coaxed him over to the table with the promise of chocolate cheesecake, a personal favorite of his. Hilda hadn't even fussed as he helped himself to a large slice, although she did mouth the word "heart condition" to him and rolled her eyes.

He had pondered the wisdom of sticking one's tongue out at one's child, and decided that he didn't want to encourage any bad behavior in his grandson.

But it was a close thing.

He was so enraptured of the cheesecake that it took awhile for him to realize that his other daughter and the Bastard hadn't made it back downstairs. He checked his watch and gaped. It had been almost an hour! What in the hell could they have been doing for an hour? Ignacio grimaced. He really didn't want to think about it. But he supposed that he should go and check on them.

He cleared his throat. "I think I'll just go check on Betty and the Ba-. Uh... Daniel. They've been gone for quite awhile."

Justin snickered. "Well maybe they have a lot to discuss." He made quotation marks with both of the first two fingers on each hand when he said the word 'discuss'.

Ignacio felt the vein in his temple start to throb.

"Oh, relax Ignacio. I'm sure they're fine. They probably do have a lot to talk about. In fact, you could say that I made sure of it."

Mere words had never filled anyone with more dread.

"Ahhh… what?" He managed.

"Well I had help. It was painfully obvious that our offspring just needed a little alone time together. So I had Justin lock them in the sitting room."

"You... wha…lock…?" Ignacio gaped at the woman sitting to his right.

Claire beamed. "Oh, don't look so shocked. I couldn't very well just knock their heads together. Trust me… the temptation was there. But I rather like your daughter and wouldn't want to see her hurt. And my son has spent enough time at the bottom of a bottle looking for answers." Her gaze turned inward for a moment, unfocused. "Trust me on this. There are no answers to be found there. It is better that they talk together."

Ignacio felt his own heart give a funny sort of flutter as he watched her shake off her memories. He saw Justin and Hilda making some serious eye contact out of the corner of his eye, and turned to his grandson.

"The key."

"But _Grandpa_!"

" _Ignacio_!"

" _Papi!"_

He held out his stretched out hand in front of Justin's crestfallen look. He watched the younger boy pout.

"Awwww… fine. You're no fun. It's in the door up the stairs."

Ignacio stood up and pushed his chair back with a scrape. He carefully didn't look at the faces of anyone as he turned and walked away from the dining room. The room was easy to find- given that there was a large key sticking out of the doorknob. Ignacio paused for a moment with a wince as he stared at the closed door. He remembered quite vividly walking in on both of his daughters at inopportune moments- one of the downsides of his family staying so close to him. He really didn't want a repeat of walking in on any embarrassing moments. But strangely, he didn't want to knock to announce himself either. He preferred to fling the door open and demand that the Bastard unhand his innocent daughter.

But he wouldn't cause her anguish or embarrassment for anything. So, he knocked. His lips twisted as he heard Daniel call out to come in through the solid door.

He took a deep breath, turned the key, and pushed open the door.

"Hi Dad."

Ignacio took in the scene. Betty didn't look as though she had been crying, but she did look a little … mussed.

"Did you know that Claire had Justin lock you two in here?"

"No."

"Yes."

Betty and Daniel looked at each other in shock. Ignacio kept his face clear of emotion at the impish look on his daughter's face… and the shocked look on Daniel's. The younger man looked utterly ridiculous sitting there with his mouth gaping open.

"You knew the door was locked?" He gasped.

"Of course. Who do you think told Claire to lock it?" Betty grinned even wider, leaned forward and kissed Daniel on his cheek. "I think I should go, anyway. We can talk later. I think we should both think about… everything."

"Oh... ah. Okay. Do you want me to come by?"

"I'll let you know."

They stood there looking at each other rather awkwardly.

Ignacio cleared his throat. "Good night, Daniel." He held out his hand to shake.

Daniel had the grace to blush as he sheepishly met Ignacio's hard gaze. "Goodnight, Mr. Suarez. Goodnight, Betty."

Ignacio took his daughter's arm and walked with her down the stairs. She sighed and knocked her head against his shoulder, leaning in for the hug.

"It's okay, Dad. It was a … good talk. But I'm tired."

The Suarezes thanked Claire for a nice evening, said their goodbyes and got into the towncar that Claire had thoughtfully provided for them for their trip back to Jackson Heights.

It was extremely quiet on the way home.

Betty's mind was swimming as she watched the scenery pass her by out of the darkness of the tinted window. Very little light made it into the interior of the back seat, and Betty was grateful as she laid her forehead on the cool glass.

What a night. She almost didn't know what to think. So many things had happened in such a short amount of time that her senses were still reeling. How could he have not realized? How could he have thought that she would… sleep with Matt while she was in a relationship with Daniel? Well, naturally therein was the problem. What she considered a relationship… Daniel considered an everyday weeknight.

Betty sighed.

Her thoughts jumped from topic to topic, unable to focus on one for too long. One snippet of the night's conversation kept coming back, almost to haunt her.

"Which is a shame, because …. That night at my apartment was a really long time ago."

Her own words, echoing over and over in her head. Betty squirmed a little in her seat, uncomfortable with the way she was feeling. Memories of that night, combined with the kiss they had shared a few minutes ago made her decidedly… warm.

One could even say… hot…if one were feeling particularly honest with one's self.

Betty felt her eyes drift shut as the scenery lulled her into a doze.

She had not been feeling tired. Watching Daniel try to swallow back the anger he felt had filled her with a strange sort of vibrant energy. Having him give her a bath was probably just about the most erotic thing that she had ever done. Every stroke of the loofah sent little tingles of electricity coursing through her body. For a moment, she remembered pain, and terror, but forced the memory away. This wasn't the time for anything dark. Not when Daniel Meade was intent on giving her a bath.

Betty stretched amidst the bubbles, loving the small, stifled sound of shock that Daniel made. It made her feel… powerful. In control. The feeling of control was so shaky that it was almost laughable, but she clung to it wholeheartedly, turned in the tub and kissed him.

She was so slippery that Daniel had to clutch onto her back so that he wouldn't fall. His hands slipped down to the very bottom of her spine and she laughed, thrilled at the astounded look on his face. Betty tightened her hands around him and leaned back, flopping down back into the water. They were kissing, mouths moving over each other as though they had never tasted anything so vital. She had a moment of pulsing adrenaline when he moved over her in the water, flashing back to ….

Daniel moved so that they were more on their sides, water sloshing almost up to her neck, bubbles flying everywhere. His hands were fisted in her hair and he was making that incredible sound, something between a moan and a whisper of sound that caused things to tighten low in her body.

"Wai…wait." He gasped.

She started nibbling on his jawline. She had been watching it for years and loved that she could finally feast on it as much as she wanted.

"Ah… oh. My. Um, Mygod. Wait..! Betty we need to talk." Daniel sat up and scooped her up over his shoulder.

She found herself laughing again at the indignity of the position. Daniel plopped her onto her bed, looking down fondly as she bounced a few times. Betty sat up quickly, and smiled up at him. She got up on her knees and started to kiss him right on his Adam's apple, sucking on the small protuberance. She could hear his breathing speed up as his legs buckled, spilling him onto the bed in front of her.

"Ahhh... waaait!"

She sat back on her knees and looked at the man in front of her. His face was flushed and little dots of bubbles still clung faithfully to his skin. His eyes were shut and his lips compressed into a straight line. His hair was soaking wet, as was his fully clothed body. Daniel had been wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and the material molded to every inch of his strong frame, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. The mark she had left on his throat drew her gaze over and over like a lone candle flame in a dark room.

"I'm not sure… that we should… actually… It's just that you've had a spectacularly shitty night and I don't want to… um. Mess up."

Betty cocked her head to the side and looked at him full in the face, eyes snapping up to his closed gaze.

"Really?'

That was actually kind of sweet. But extremely annoying. She wasn't some child. She knew what she wanted. Betty leaned forward again, slowly. Daniel watched her approach, his eyes drifting slowly shut as he watched her lean in. "I think that's an incredibly bad idea."

Her lips left little puffs of air on his skin. Her tongue flicked out and captured a lone drop of water as it snaked down the column of his neck. She watched goose bumps pop up on his tanned skin and smiled to herself.

"You...do?" Daniel's voice squeaked a little on the last word.

"Mmm. Hm…"

And with that she kissed him again. Daniel was murmuring something about stopping if she needed him to, but really why would she ever want him to stop? His hands on her body were what she craved. They both attacked his shirt at the same time, hearing the slight rip of the soft material as they got it up over his head. It landed with a wet plop somewhere near the tub.

Daniel took over, and she was more than willing to let him. He cupped the back of her head with his hands, holding her hair in his strong grip, leaning so that her back was against the bedspread. It was Betty's turn to cry out as his mouth moved down the center of her body, hands rubbing lightly over her arms and breasts, cupping and reforming the soft curves so that he could feast on her nipples, back and forth, one after the other. She went slack with shock as she felt his tongue flicking quickly over the hard, pebbled surface. She knew that she was moaning; could hear herself crying out over and over. When he tugged a little with his lips, she arched up off the bed, almost screaming out her pleasure.

When she felt the wet, denim-clad leg in between her own, the difference in sensations made her whimper. She was scared for a moment, and lost her momentum as other memories intruded. But then it was so abrasive after her skin had been softened by the lotion and the bubbles, that each slow drag of the material against her inner thighs could be felt more strongly against the sensitive skin.

She belatedly realized that his tongue had traced down her sternum, and was lightly flicking over her belly button. She was so lost in the sensual daze his lovemaking had put her in, that it took her a minute to react when she felt the heat of his breath over her lower stomach.

"Wait…. What are you…?"

She sensed, rather than saw, Daniel freeze. Belatedly, she realized what he must be thinking as he looked up the line of her body.

"I'm so sorry. Oh… damn, I never would have… if I thought that… I..." Daniel gasped incoherently.

Betty's hands moved to either side of his face. He looked horrified with himself.

"Wait. Calm down. It's just that I never… have. Um. Done that… before."

Daniel blinked.

"Never?"

"No." She whispered it, looking away.

"Really?"

Betty looked back up at him, exasperated at the tone of his voice. He had a rather goofy grin on his face. His hands absently stroked along her hips and thighs, causing her to catch her breath.

He lowered his head.

"So no…" His breath puffed against her stomach… "worries, then? This …is …okay?"

Betty thought her eyes would cross just from the feel of his lips lightly ghosting over her left hip. Something had happened to his voice as he spoke, making the already sexy timber even deeper as he whispered to her; she could feel the tips of his fingers grasping against the outside of her upper thighs.

"Ye-yessss…." She hissed the word as her muscles tensed, waiting to see what he would do.

Daniel rubbed his cheek lightly against her mound. Betty could feel the light rasp of his stubble against the springy hair there and forgot how to breathe. His hands slid around to her inner thighs, and slowly spread them apart. Betty's eyes were clenched shut. Each second seemed to tick by with an agonizing slowness as she waited for him to continue.

She felt the bed dip and shift and still nothing. She risked opening her eyes and looking down. The sight of Daniel Meade, playboy extraordinaire, with his large hands on her thighs and looking up the line of her body, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge him was just about the sexiest thing Betty had ever seen.

"Betty," He whispered, "Watch me taste you."

Betty was fairly certain she had just won some kind of world record for the longest breath held during sex.

Her eyes widened as she exhaled quickly, trying not to be too loud. She couldn't look away from his heated gaze. His blue eyes seemed to pin her to him as he slowly lowered his head.

Betty felt him pull her legs a little further apart. She could feel the heat and humidity of his open mouth hovering over her for a moment before the velvety smoothness of his tongue slid slowly against her.

She jumped against Daniel's hands, which had tightened imperceptibly on her in anticipation of her reaction. His tongue moved again, she could feel each separate movement against the outside of her center. His fingers moved against her, stroking softly over and up and then he was doing something that she was certain had to be illegal in most of the free world.

When he plunged the small muscle inside her, exploring the soft folds, she screamed his name, throwing back her head and trying not to buck him off. Every single muscle in her body was either stiff as a board or quivering pathetically. She was semi-conscious of crying out, over and over, harsh moans that echoed through the room with each swirl of his tongue. Betty knew her thighs had locked around the sides of his head. He moved so that the angle was a little deeper and Betty's hands came down to fist in his short hair. Dimly, she was aware that she might be hurting him, but she couldn't seem to stop. She strained to get closer to that magical mouth.

Daniel lifted his head long enough to murmur a question, asking again if she was okay. Betty gasped and gave another little tug on his hair. Daniel laughed, low sounding very male and sure of himself, but went before she could respond. He lashed his tongue over her bare clit, feeling the now-erect little nub under his tongue and did something magical again that put even more pressure on the small ultra-sensitive spot.

Betty's feet were now flat against the mattress and she tilted the muscles of her rear end, pushing up against his body. She could feel his tongue from the top of her slit to the bottom, rubbing it from side to side, exploring every inch of her core, finding every single sensitive spot she had.

She thought she was going to pass out. Betty didn't know what words were coming out of her mouth, sounds forced from a throat that was sore from the amount of sound it produced.

Then she felt his finger rubbing, and slowly entering the slick folds, rubbing gently against her inner walls, feeling their slick, spongy softness, pressing and wiggling to find the most responsive spots.

Betty bit her lip and made a strangled cry. "Daa... Dannniel. I... I…" God, she couldn't even talk. Everything in her was concentrating on that one part of her body. Another finger joined the first. His mouth moved again to that protruding nubbin of flesh, sucking and lapping his tongue against her, moving his fingers in an alternating rhythm until Betty had to let go of Daniel's head and bite the fleshy part of her own hand to keep the screams in.

She felt the orgasm slam into her and was sure that her eyes rolled back in her head. She could feel him still thrusting his fingers inside of her, prolonging every second of her loss of control, licking and sucking and….

It could have been minutes or an hour later when she felt him leave her body. He disappeared for a moment. Betty lie there with her limbs spread, her heart pounding in her chest, body still throbbing and moaned again when she felt the bed dip once more. She could feel the hot head of his shaft as it brushed against the wetness on her thighs.

She could feel the latex of the condom as he brushed against her, and jealously wanted to feel all of him inside of her.

"Betty." His voice was gentle but still strained.

She still couldn't speak, only look up at him through eyelids that felt three pounds each.

"I love…." Daniel slipped into her. Both of them sighed at the feeling of him gently pushing, making room for himself inside. "I... I love… how you… feel…" He bent over her neck, and licked up towards her mouth. They kissed, and Betty was shocked to taste herself from his lips. When Betty actually kissed him, that seemed to be some sort of trigger that sent Daniel thrusting inside of her, raising her legs up to wrap them around his waist, rocking in and against her until they both lost themselves in the sensations of love, and lust, and pure unadulterated happiness.

* * *

Betty sat up startled, looking guiltily around as though her family could read her dreams. The town car was pulling into her neighborhood, and everyone else in the back seat seemed to be in a light doze themselves. Betty sighed and tried to calm down her blushing face.

That night had been so amazing. Special and erotic and tender and unexpected.

And when she woken up...he had disappeared.

 

* * *

 

A/N:WHEW! :D

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

For the third time, Daniel caught himself peeking out of the glass office wall expecting to see the brightly clad Betty running his affairs like a highly-decorated ship's captain. For the third time, it was almost a physical jolt to see Amanda sitting out there dressed in her "office assistant chic" and busily at work. It had been two days (and six hours, fifteen minutes) since Betty had orchestrated them being locked into the sitting room together, and Daniel still hadn't gotten all the events from that night straight in his head. He had been walking around in a permanent state of confusion.

Looking out and seeing Amanda's usually carefree, self-involved visage seriously at work was odd. Not seeing the bright red glasses, blindingly metallic, ecstatic grin of Betty's was something else altogether. Usually he didn't like his mother's meddling in his affairs but this time, if he was honest with himself, he did appreciate her stepping in. His mother had a tendency to cannonball in, rather than dip one toe cautiously into the water, but in the case of finding him an assistant he did appreciate her didactic nature. The irony that both of his parents had had to step in and "find" someone for their son was not lost on Daniel.

Daniel had cornered Amanda by the coffee kiosk and asked her if there would be any problems with her working for him so closely, considering their history. She had cocked her head, thrown out her hip and started in with one of her patented Smart-Ass-Amanda answers, but had seemed to pull into herself. A more mature, serious Amanda answered him with a simple, "This is my chance, Daniel. I'm not going to blow it." He found himself smiling back at the shy smile she gave, shocked but extremely pleased.

And so far so good. She had adopted the mantra "Whatever Betty Did Was The One True Way" and it seemed to be working well for her. Thinking of Amanda caused his gaze to wonder back out to the assistant's desk. She was speaking into her microphone, typing something on her computer, and also seemed to be jotting down notes with her right hand. It reminded Daniel of a juggler in a circus act and he had a weird sense of déjà vu having seen Betty perform the same multitasking miracles on a daily basis.

God, he missed her.

He eyed his cell wondering whether or not he should try to call her. Was two days not enough time? Was it too soon? God, why couldn't he ever seem to get this right- when it mattered? He felt like an idiot. Daniel had actually put his hand on his phone when Wilhelmina gave a tap of her fingernails on his door and barged in. Marc started to follow but Wilhelmina stopped him by raising one finger.

"Stay!" She barked.

Marc took several tiny steps backwards and shut the door, practically genuflecting.

'"Daniel, we need to talk." With this announcement, Wilhelmina crossed to the couch and seated herself, the leather of her skirt giving the teeniest of squeaks as she made herself as comfortable as five-inch spike heels and a gallon of Botox could make her.

Daniel tried to hide his surprise at this unprecedented occurrence. Last he remembered, he had called her several names starting with 'evil, Machiavellian bitch' and moving steadily more downhill. Of course the last few weeks had been rather hazy.

"Ah. Yes." Giving his phone a forlorn look, Daniel stood up from behind his desk and crossed to one of the chairs across from Wilhelmina. "What can I do for you?"

She regarded him silently for a moment. He couldn't tell by her facial expression what she was thinking, but he knew from long association with the woman that one should just let her lead into whatever it was that she needed to say.

"I understand that congratulations are in order."

Daniel winced inwardly.

"Err…"

Wilhelmina's left eyebrow jumped up a half an inch or so.

"Yes. Your joy at procreating the next generation of Meade is expressed with your customary tact and elegance." She relaxed back onto the back of the couch, stretching one arm up along the back cushion, delivering her verbal volley with a slight smirk.

"Um. Thank You?"

She gave a tiny nod. "Yes. I overheard Claire babbling about it to some woman over lunch."

Daniel blinked. "Oh, I hadn't realized that you and my mother dined together."

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I was sitting at the table behind her."

Daniel was surprised to find his lips twitching. "Ah- Yes. My mistake."

"Quite. Well I'm sure you have much to do. I just wanted to … congratulate you… as I said."

Daniel wasn't a complete idiot. He thought quickly as he looked at the statuesque woman standing in front of him. "You know… the MAMA Awards are in a couple of weeks. I …really think that you should give our acceptance speech. You know as well as I do that we'll get one." He smirked a little at her surprised blink. "As much as it pains me to admit this, this magazine wouldn't have made it as long as it has without you. I know you and I haven't exactly been peas and carrots during our association, but…" He trailed off, pushing his hand through his hair. "I recently figured out that my priorities have changed." His grin turned a little sheepish. "I just think that you were born to do this. Not just the awards, but being an Editor along with Creative Director. And, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't mind taking more of a controlling role again. I have the feeling that I'm going to be a little busy."

His words seemed to echo in the room for a moment. Daniel was touched to see the surprised pleasure on Wilhelmina's face. It must be his week for emotional breakthroughs.

She blinked hard a few times and schooled her face back to its regular blank, cold façade. She nodded. "Naturally. You will be busy. Of course there are nannies and other persons to do most of the actual work, but I rather doubt you would be interested in that. And neither would your… ah. Betty." She rose gracefully to her feet. "Thank you Daniel." Her voice was subdued. When she put her hand on his forearm, he met her eyes, surprised. They very rarely touched.

"In this last month since Connor…did… what he did…. you really have turned into a good person." She twisted her lips into her customary smirk. "Better late than never, right?"

Daniel couldn't really respond to that as she left. He crossed back around to his desk and sat down. Perhaps that was a wee bit of the Pot beating the Kettle over the head with a handy tire iron, but the peace was too fragile to upset it.

_…neither would your… ah. Betty…_

It struck Daniel then that Wilhelmina hadn't been sure what to call the relationship between he and Betty. They weren't spouses. They weren't engaged. They weren't boyfriend or girlfriend…. He wasn't even sure if they were friends. The last few months had been rather insane with all the craziness that had gone on. They had been kidnapped. They had been scared almost to death and then had managed to survive. They had started a sexual relationship. He had gotten her pregnant. Daniel had just about single-handedly destroyed it by being a complete fool about the woman he had fallen in love with… but somehow… she had been willing to give him a second chance. At least at being her friend. Or the father of her child. Or… well he would take anything.

Maybe he hadn't completely ruined everything. Maybe he still had a chance to have some kind of relationship with Betty.

Maybe.

* * *

Betty was pacing.

Five steps. Ten steps. Turn. Repeat.

Should she call? It was ridiculous to be embarrassed over remembering one particular night with someone, but she had dreamt about the damn thing three nights in a row! She chuckled a little naughtily as she imagined what a dream psychoanalyst might think of her repeating the same dream over and over. It didn't matter what she had been dreaming about... kittens… fluffy bunnies… child birth… sooner or later something would click in her dreaming mind and that was all she wrote. Instantaneous smut in pure, glorious - and boy, did she mean glorious -Technicolor.

She had heard that hormones affected pregnant people in strange ways, but this was ridiculous.

Five steps. Ten steps. Turn. Repeat.

It had felt good to talk everything out. Well almost everything. And true, after that night of honest confessions they both really did need some time away from each other to process what they had heard… and what they had said. No matter how much she may want to ignore it, the fact that Daniel had thought that she could sleep with one person and be dating another just hurt. It hurt. How could he think that she would be that sort of person? Hadn't he been paying attention for the last three damn years?

Well, Daniel did always have a way of ignoring what was an inconvenience. And no matter how she really felt about him, the fact that he could have so little trust in her… well. It made her think that she and Daniel really weren't scheduled for happily ever after.

Her cell rang, jarring her out of her thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Betty." Betty's knees went weak at hearing his voice. Maybe she was the greatest pervert in the history of the world, but every time she heard him speak it was like she was remembering all the sexy murmurs and urgent demands when they were…

Damn. She had completely missed what he had said after her name. _Stupid hormones. Get a grip!_ There was a pause on the phone as though Daniel was waiting for a response.

"I'm sorry; I must have dropped the phone or something." She fibbed. "What did you say?"

She heard an embarrassed cough.

"I… ah. I was just wondering if you were free tonight? Maybe for dinner?"

Betty almost dropped the phone again, for real this time.

Daniel was asking her on a ... date?

"I.. ah… yes. I think that I am free." Of course she was free, unless you counted devouring the flan Papi had in the fridge with her name on it (literally, and if Justin ate any of it again she was perfectly justified in stabbing him with a bendy straw) and a night of drooling over Hugh Laurie in House reruns.

There was a quick release of breath. "Great. I can pick you up, around … seven?"

This is completely surreal. "…Sure."There was a click on the other end of the phone and Betty just stood there, staring out the window, listening to the silence on the other end of the line. Her first impulse was giddiness at being asked on a date. Her second was anger. At herself, or at Daniel… well she wasn't sure. _Should I go on the date? He just spent the better part of a month treating you like dirt after all. Was it too soon Is this the message that you really want to send?_ (Strangely enough that voice sounded like her father.)

Well, what was the point of hanging onto bad feelings? Yeah, he had hurt her, and yeah he had been a class-A jerkface, but was it such a bad thing to try to have a little fun? What was the worst that could happen? Betty flipped open her phone, and shut it again, lost in thought.

After much back and forth in her head- Betty decided that a date was a date was a date- and she really wasn't in a position to be picky. Maybe tonight would be amazing. Maybe it wouldn't- but if she kept living as though she were afraid of the world, then she'd never have any fun! She absently shut her phone and looked at the time. It was 3:30.

3:30?

"HILDAAAA!"

Betty turned with a swish of her hair and thundered downstairs, bellowing for her sister.

"everandifyoudon'."

Hilda blinked at her sister in the mirror. Her eyes met those of her customer, Mrs. Camacho from down the street, in the reflective surface.

"Ah.. what?"

Betty blew a frustrated breath out so hard that her hair fluttered. Her glasses even fogged up for a minute. "Daniel asked me on a date! A date!" Her father poked his head through the curtain to watch the conversation. "And I need you to do my hair. Maybe help me find something awesome to wear? I want to look perfect for him. It's our first real date!"

Ignacio coughed something which sounded suspiciously like "about damn time" and left. Betty didn't even spare her father a withering look. She was too busy begging Hilda.

"Please? Please, please?" Hilda cocked her head in the mirror and tried not to grin at the way Betty was practically jumping from side to side. "Mrs. C, I'm just about done here. Betty, why don't you go get a drink or something and have a seat. I'll call you in when I'm through." Hilda couldn't hold back the grin when she heard Betty's little squeal of happiness and her pounding feet as she ran off.

It was quite a change from the mopey, depressed Betty that had been around the house lately. Hilda made a mental note to quiz Justin on exactly what he had done at Claire's house to accomplish Betty's extremely cheerful mood. In the meantime, she finished Mrs. C's permanent and crossed to open a window to let the smell waft out of the small salon. Ugh. She was surprised that she had any nose hair left. Mrs. C went to sit under the dryer, and Hilda went into the kitchen for a moment to get away from the smell. Betty was fairly dancing around the kitchen as she held the casserole dish of flan and a spoon, occasionally eating a bite.

"Hungry then? You haven't been sick?"

"Nope. Not a bit. This is extremely good. Papi should be a chef or something."

Hilda could practically hear him rolling his eyes from the living room.

"Well calm down for a minute and have a seat. I have sort of an idea about what you can wear tonight. I also have some ideas for your hair and makeup, but I want to know what you think."

Betty sat, all at once subdued. "I want to look… better. More like at… the trial. I ah, don't want to embarrass him or myself by wearing something wrong."

Hilda frowned. That didn't sound like Betty at all. At least not the Betty who cheerfully wore neon green stripes with Scottish plaid to work.

"I just want this to go well, Hilda. That's all. Don't frown." Betty took another bite of the flan and made some highly inappropriate yummy noises, oblivious to Hilda's worried look. She noticed her sister get up from the table and disappear back into her salon. Betty knew Hilda was worried about her, but she meant what she had said. She didn't want to embarrass Daniel in any way tonight. Tonight should be perfect - without any sort of snags or snafus. Her changing what she looked like was such a simple thing. Betty smirked. And if Hilda could make her look a little different, a little more grown-up… a little sexier… than what was the harm?

She heard the bells over the salon door jingle and saw Hilda poke her head out from the curtain. "Come on then. Let's see what we can do for you." Betty sat down in the chair and smiled as her sister flipped the cape over her. She met Hilda's worried gaze in the mirror and grinned impishly.

"Okay so makeover time! Make me over into someone completely different! I want to knock his socks off!"

Hilda's lips twitched. "What kind of haircut do you want?"

"Don't care. Just something that makes me look… well. More like the girl that Daniel is normally with."

"Hmm. It seems to me that Daniel isn't with the girl he's 'normally with' for a perfectly good reason."

Betty rolled her eyes. "Just because he's settled for me doesn't mean that I can't try to make myself look pretty."

Hilda opened her mouth to pick that statement apart but saw that Betty had shut her eyes and was smiling, humming to herself. Hilda couldn't bring herself to start a fight. Besides, doing a make-over would be fun. Not the one she gave Betty a few years ago - she'd learned a lot since then - but something that would make Daniel sweat when he saw her. Hilda smirked and started spraying down her hair. Betty's hair was so healthy that it seemed criminal to actually cut it off, but cut it she did to a little less than shoulder-length. Hilda had to do it quickly so that she wouldn't chicken out.

She started to snip, and cut, and was soon caught up in her project. Betty hummed on, oblivious, eyes tightly shut, completely at the mercy of her older sister's creative streak. It only took about 20 minutes. Hilda put some larger rollers in Betty's wealth of hair and stuck a cap over the top of it so that her little sister wouldn't peek.

She tapped her on the head.

"Okay. Let's go shopping. You definitely need some date underwear."

Betty was already trying to peek under the cap. Hilda whacked her on the head with her purse and grabbed her keys. "If you don't' stop peeking I'll cut it off. Swear to God!"

Betty looked at her and rolled her eyes. She ran to get her shoes and she and Hilda drove to the mall. They had an hour to shop. It would have to be quick, but Hilda was pretty confident that it could be done.

They careened into the mall parking lot and high-tailed it for some of the pricier dress stores- stores that would be out of their budget, especially with Betty not working. But... it was equally obvious that Betty wanted to splurge. 

There was a Sacks and Hilda was pretty sure that they could find everything they needed there. They dodged round a couple of mall walkers and Hilda yanked Betty away from the Tollhouse Cookie store on the way there.

"Okay so…,a dress that will make him forget his name. You're going to have to have a hot dress to go with the hot hair that I'm doing for you."

"Oh yeah, hot. Paris Hilton, eat your heart out," Betty grumbled, pointing to the hair cap and looking forlornly back over her shoulder at the cookie store.

Hilda huffed a breath, all at once tremendously excited about Betty's date. She looked at her sister and started grabbing dresses off the rack seemingly at random. There was a strapless blue one, a slinky red one, a basic black one, and a green one that caught her eye. "Oh quit it. Come on. We only have-" She looked at her cell phone- "about 40 minutes left if we want to do this right." With that she hauled Betty into the dressing room with her.

The blue one made her feel like Violet Beauegaurde- the blueberry from _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory._

The red one Betty couldn't stop trying to cover all the bits left naked in order to enjoy wearing it. There was almost no back to it, and the front plunged down almost to her navel. Betty had turned just about as red as the dress while it was on her, and couldn't get it off quickly enough. Hilda discreetly checked the price tag and made a mental note to grab it for herself later.

The black one looked lovely, but Betty didn't want to look just like she had at the courthouse. She wanted something different.

The green one… was perfect. It looked as though it had been fitted just for Betty's body. It was long, going to the floor without heels. There was a slit in the side, and the material was soft and rather swishy as Betty turned around. The front dipped down to her breastbone, and had a flirty little fringe at the top of the shoulders to give the illusion of sleeves. The back was low, but done tastefully enough that Betty didn't feel exposed. The material was a cross between suede and a crushed velvet, and clung to Betty's form.

"Wow." Betty breathed, looking at herself in the mirror. The hair cap looked asinine, but neither of the two sisters even noticed.

"Wow." Hilda breathed. "If you don't get some tonight girl, then that boy is broken!"

She laughed at Betty's furious blush and helped her to unzip and step out of the dress. Hilda tossed it over her arm and left her sister to get dressed. She went to pay for it, cringing just a little at the price. It was worth it though. God, it was a beautiful dress.

The two sisters blazed through jewelry and shoes in nanoseconds. A pair of gold sandals with a four inch heel would raise Betty up high enough that she wouldn't trip over the end of the dress. She found a gold bracelet, and faux crystal and gold earrings that dangled from her earlobes.

The lingerie department was another story. Betty was all of a sudden strangely shy and argued about the type of underwear to wear under her dress. Hilda thought something slinky and sexy was in order, and Betty was strangely reticent about the whole situation, insisting that Daniel wouldn't see her underwear anyway.

Hilda looked at her cell phone again. It was already 5:45. "Betty! Come on! Just pick something. Or I'll pick something. Trust me on this. Just because you are wearing sexy lingerie doesn't mean that you are signing on the dotted line to sleep with him for Pete's sake. But on the off chance that he does get to see it, then…. Oooh. Is that a garter belt?"

Even Betty got an impish, speculative look in her eye at that. Hilda talked her into the garter belt, (Oh come on Hilda, who wears those anyway?) the flesh-colored thigh highs with the black lace at the top, (Hilda, that lace is going to itch all night!) and a black lace thong, (Yeah because I really feel the need to floss my ass. Thanks, Hilda) with minimal protest and even bought Betty a gooey triple-chocolate and macadamia nut cookie on the way out. They made it back to the house at 6:05, and Betty practically sprinted upstairs to shave her legs and shower.

Hilda set out the dress, stockings, lingerie, and shoes impatiently. She raided her makeup case and set out what she thought she'd need. She also found a pair of Betty's contacts and grabbed those just in case.

Betty thought she was lucky that Hilda even gave her the few minutes to dry off shoving her into the thong and garters. The dress felt divine as she tugged it into place, and the little rasp of the zipper made her smile. Hilda found some perfumed dusting powder for her chest and neck, and helped her with the earrings. "Okay hurry! I only have a half an hour before he gets here!"

Betty could feel her sister curling her hair, and pulling it up into an upsweep, securing it with bobby pins and hairspray well enough that she could probably stand in a hurricane and not have one strand move out of place. Yet it still managed to feel soft and not lacquered into place, though Hilda kept whacking her knuckles with a comb whenever one of her hands drifted up to feel her hair. She swiveled Betty around and started in on her makeup. Betty hated make-up. She loathed looking like a clown, but accepted that this was a necessity.

Hilda helped her with her contacts and stepped away just as they heard the car pull up from outside.

Betty didn't have time to look at herself as the doorbell rang. Her father answered it, and she heard Daniel's and Justin's voices in the living room.

Show time. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pressing one hand to her tummy. Betty wasn't sure why she was nervous all of a sudden, but she was. Her heels made a slight clacking sound as she walked out of the salon room and into the kitchen. Her gaze was caught by herself in the mirror on the wall and she almost tripped in shock at the lovely stranger staring back at her.

Her gaze flew to Hilda's, whose was suspiciously damp. "Go get 'im." She whispered and grinned. Betty blinked hard and went to hug her sister. "Don't you dare cry. You'll look like a raccoon," Hilda hissed as she hugged her little sister hard. She sniffed and made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on!" she whispered. "Have fun. You can thank me for the garters later."

Betty smiled in spite of herself, took a deep breath, and stepped into the living room.

"—and then I said, 'No you idiot. It's just a math class. You don't have to copy my… _wow_ Aunt _Betty_!" Justin stopped in mid tirade and gaped at her.

Daniel turned from talking to Justin and stared at her, dumbstruck. His eyes raked slowly down her body and back up, settling on her face with a heated look in his blue eyes. She saw him swallow hard, Adam's apple bobbing in a sudden motion.

She was suddenly shy, fearing that this whole thing had been a horrible idea. It never worked out well when she acted like someone that she wasn't. She should know better by now! What if she made a complete fool out of herself?

…What if she didn't?

"Are you ready?" Daniel's voice was raspy. Hearing it caused heat to stain her cheeks as she remembered their last night together. Sense memory caused a shiver as she remembered once again, him over her, whispering urgently in that same raspy voice.

Betty nodded. She opened her mouth to speak.

Hilda rushed in from the kitchen holding a small beaded bag. "Betty you can't forget this. I packed you a small bag." She crossed to her sister and handed the small purse to her, kissing her on the cheek. "Hey don't be nervous. Have fun tonight!" She whispered low enough that no one else could hear her advice. She waggled her eyebrows so ridiculously that Betty couldn't help but smile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel swallow hard again as she grinned at her sister. Hilda stepped away, and Betty turned the smile on Daniel. "Yes, I'm ready. Good night, Papi. Goodnight, Justin, Hilda…."

She shivered a little as she heard Daniel murmur his goodbyes and take her arm to escort her down the steps to the waiting limousine. Betty's heart was thumping like crazy.

_This is so stupid. Get a grip! You're having his baby for Pete's sake. Why the heck are you so nervous **now?**_

Daniel paused for a moment by the door, nodding at the chauffeur that he would get her door. He opened it, and helped her inside. Betty wobbled a bit on her heels but managed to slide onto the leather seats without too much of a mishap. Her heart pounded harder at the way Daniel didn't stop touching her, slowly sliding his hand down her arm, over the pulse point in her wrist, and holding her hand so that she didn't tip over. He shut the door and walked around to get in on the other side.

The chauffeur eased out onto her street. The black mirrored partition was up, leaving Betty and Daniel in their own relatively private space. Betty wasn't sure what to do with her hands so she opened the small purse that Hilda had given her. She was glad for the dim interior when she saw what her older sister had packed: $40 for cab fare, lipstick, Betty's cell phone (which was switched off) and what looked like six packages of condoms.

Betty snorted, face flaming, and shut the purse with a quiet snick of sound. Then she sat on it for good measure. Daniel had been oblivious to her little moment of embarrassment. He was looking out of the window and tapping his hands on his knee.

The silence between them grew more and more awkward.

"So where are we-?"

"I want you to know that—"

They both spoke at the same time then stopped midsentence.

Betty grinned at him, a quick flash of braces in the dim interior of the limo. "Sorry. You go ahead."

Daniel cleared his throat. "I.. uh. I was just going to say that you do. Look amazing. I mean… yeah. You're beautiful, Betty."

Betty thought her heart melted into a little puddle of shimmery goo at not only his words but the nervous way that he said it. She ducked her gaze, and Daniel reached over to take her hand again. As he spoke, his thumb moved back and forth over the webbing between her thumb and first finger, causing goosebumps that made her shiver.

"I was thinking that maybe we could go to dinner and a show or something… um, if you wanted to? Or we could go for pizza and karaoke. Whatever you want."

Betty moved her hand onto his leg, just to see what would happen. She felt a quick surge of feminine power at the way his breath shook a little at the light touch of her skin through the slacks he was wearing.

Between remembering (some might say obsessing) over their last night together, then dreaming about it almost nightly for the past few days, Betty was very glad to see that Daniel wasn't exactly blasé about hiding his reaction to her.

"Dinner sounds wonderful. I'm starving." She said and tightened her fingers, sliding just slightly over his leg, moving up a small amount

Daniel turned towards her and stilled her hand on his thigh. "I made reservations. I think you'll like the place." He took her hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing the inside of her wrist. "I feel kind of strange about this. I can't believe that I've never been on a date with you before." Betty felt the quick flick of his tongue and shivered. "But I'm half afraid that I'll screw this up again." He met her gaze, his eyes frank and honest. "I don't want to mess up again Betty, so you'll have to tell me if … well. Just tell me."

Betty blinked.

His hand moved up her arm, lightly trailing on the skin there. His fingertips ghosted up over her shoulder and onto her collarbone. He then brought his fingertips up over her cheek, cupping her face in his hand. He brought her mouth close to his, and paused as though he was anticipating the moment.

Betty was surprised to feel her lips trembling at his tenderness.

"I don't want you to think that I've forgotten about everything we said…when we talked." Daniel whispered. "But God Betty… I'm just so damn sorry for everything." He kissed her very softly, the slightest brush of skin against hers. "I couldn't stop thinking about everything that I've done… and how miserable I made you. I'll make it up to you you know. I'm not sure about… things. The future. But I want to… I want to do it right."

Their lips met again for another chaste kiss.

They pulled away as the limo slowed down. Betty was completely discombobulated; she knew it was too soon to be in Manhattan. Daniel's whispered words were almost poetic in their intensity and they had made her forget her surroundings. Betty knew that she and Daniel hadn't been in the limo long enough to get to Manhattan. She was further disarmed by the completely mischievous grin that lit up Daniel's face. "Ah. Good. We're here."

The chauffeur came around and opened Betty's door. Betty's brows scrunched up in confusion when she slid out of the limo onto the tarmac of what was obviously an airport. She turned her head and saw a private airplane with the Meade logo on the tail section. Betty felt the heat of Daniel's body behind her as he took her arm again; sliding his fingers down to cup her elbow. It was as though he couldn't get enough of simply touching her, and the slight little movements were driving her crazy.

"I said we were going to dinner." He said with a grin, looking down at her again, his eyes almost sparkling with laughter. "I just didn't say where." With that he escorted her to the waiting plane.

* * *

 

 

A/N: Hello. It's me again. I just wanted to mention once again that this is so far from canon that it is an AU, although I do use bits and snippets from seasons 1-4. The only way it could be any more alternative is if I stuck Daniel in a fuchsia tutu.

*thinks*

Hmmmm, _actually…_..

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

Daniel's heart was beating a little harder than usual as he waited for Betty's response. He was 0-5 for grand, sweeping romantic gestures and there was always the chance that he would fail spectacularly. He had made reservations at four different places to be certain that he would be able to take Betty to whatever kind of restaurant that she wanted. With so many five-star restaurants in Manhattan, it had been hard to find places that his inner foodie wouldn't sneer at in other cities around the country. It had been an exhausting time on the internet - and his credit card would never be the same - but it was worth it.

Daniel had conspired with Justin to hold the secret of what he was doing until after they had left. He knew how loyal Ignacio and Hilda were to Betty and hadn't been sure that they wouldn't spoil his surprise. He had a small overnight case that Justin had packed earlier in the day and had smuggled into the plane with Betty none the wiser. Daniel had squared things away at MODE so that they could carry on without him. It wasn't as though he had been doing much for the magazine lately anyway. A few more days wouldn't really make all that much of a difference… and who knew? It might be useful to have Wilhelmina off-balance; drunk with power and owing him a favor.

Betty's response was everything that he had hoped for.

He grinned foolishly as he watched the smile blossom across her face as she realized what was going on.

"Ohh _Daniel!_ "

Her pleased whisper seemed loud over the sound of the plane warming up. Daniel couldn't help himself; her pleasure caused him to have to touch her. He reached out and lightly traced the side of his hand over her cheekbone. Betty grabbed his hand and started wiggling. If she hadn't been wearing heels, Daniel suspected that she would be jumping up and down. Once the initial excitement wore off it was as though she couldn't help herself.

"Where are we going? What do you have planned? Ohh! Does the plane have swivel seats? I've always wanted to go on a private plane!"

Daniel just laughed. "Let's go see, hmm?"

They walked towards the waiting staircase, Daniel's hand resting lightly on the small of her back. His thumb occasionally rubbed a small circle over the skin there. He escorted her up the stairs, still grinning over her child-like enthusiasm. Daniel tried to remember the last time he had seen her so excited. The smile faded abruptly as he realized that with everything that had gone on he hadn't really given her a reason to be enthusiastic.

Maybe tonight would make it up to her.

"This is awesome. I feel like Cinderella or something." Betty chattered as she climbed the steps, oblivious to the dark turn of Daniel's thoughts. "I didn't go to my prom but I imagine… wow. Just wait until I tell Hilda!"

The flight attendant greeted them with a smile and gestured inside. "Good Evening, Mr. Meade. Ms. Suarez. My name is Steve. Please have a seat. I will just inform the captain…."

Daniel coughed and gave the man a significant look that involved a lot of glowering and eyebrow wiggling behind Betty's back.

"Er… I mean… I will be there momentarily to take your drink orders." He flashed a nervous smile.

Daniel resisted the urge to narrow his eyes, draw his forefinger across his neck and continue glaring at the flight attendant. The poor man already looked so worried over his mistake that Daniel thought the younger man might wet himself. He had given explicit instructions to his staff but unfortunately Steve was new. Daniel had never done anything that required this much planning before for a date. Usually he would use the plane for a quick hookup or business meeting for someone who was easily impressed. He had made sure that his usual flight staff wouldn't be working and inadvertently comment about one of his former uses for the plane to Betty. Steve hadn't been his first choice. His mother liked him though - for reasons that Daniel chose not to examine too closely - and so Daniel was sort of stuck with him.

Betty seemed to be looking around at the interior of the plane and didn't seem to notice, although it was sometimes hard to tell with her. She noticed everything.

Daniel helped her seat herself and sat down across from her. He kept trying to stare without it being obvious that he was staring. "You look amazing." He blurted out. _Oh nice. Suave mood there Meade._

Betty smiled and nervously licked her lips; the move caused Daniel to shift slightly in his seat as he stared at the moisture on her bottom lip. "Thank you. Hilda helped. I thought maybe you would like to be seen with someone that doesn't embarrass you."

 _Whoa! What_? Daniel didn't need his brain shrieking warnings at him to realize that he was in extremely deep water. "You don't embarrass me, Betty. Why would you say that?"

She waved a hand to dismiss his words. "I don't mean that like that. I just wanted to dress up. I've been changing my outfits and things to more socially acceptable-looking attire, you know, while I'm looking for jobs and all. It kills me to have to conform to what someone else thinks is "appropriate" but …" Betty trailed off as she remembered she was talking to the editor of a major fashion magazine. Her face turned an interesting shade of pink that clashed horribly with her makeup. "Anyway… hey!, Is that real leather?" Betty leaned over and opened a small shelf near the airplane's window.

Daniel let her change the subject but filed it in the back of his mind for later examination. He didn't want to say anything that might kill the vibe of the evening. He heard Steve behind him and sat up a little straighter in his seat. Time for the fun to begin.

Daniel wished he had a camera recording all of this as Betty caught sight of the flight attendant walking towards them down the small carpeted hall. Her initial polite smile of greeting turned into an expression much more quizzical as she saw what he carried. A silver tray gleamed in the muted light of the plane. On the tray were four boxes, about the size of a gallon of milk, covered in black paper. The lid came off like on a shoebox, and Daniel had made sure there were several layers of dark tissue paper to hide the prize inside. All four boxes were black, with white, incandescent shimmery ribbon tied in an elaborate bow. Steve cast a quick, nervous gaze at Daniel and bent at the waist, setting the silver tray on the small table between the chairs.

Betty's shocked, pleased eyes met his over the boxes.

"What's this?"

Daniel grinned and absently dismissed Steve with a flick of the wrist. "I guess you'll just have to see. Open one and find out, Betty."

Betty looked at the closest box, then back up at Daniel. Her hands fluttered like butterflies over the lid then came back to her lap where she smoothed her hands over the crushed velvet material. She peeked up at him through her bangs and ripped off the lid. The tissue paper made a crinkly sound as she unwrapped it. Daniel had to bite his lip a little so that he didn't start grinning at the expression on her face when she lifted out the small object inside.

"A… cow?" Her voice showed quite clearly that was not the 'thing' that she was expecting. Daniel nodded and met her gaze with his. When Betty saw the mischievous glint in his eyes she looked back down at the cow.

"Um... is that a fireman's uniform? The cow is wearing a fireman's uniform?" Daniel nodded and Betty set it down onto the silver tray, already opening the lid of the next box. Her eyes kept flicking back to it as she unwrapped the next box.

There was a glint of silver. "This is really pretty. It's grapes… right wait, are those salt and pepper shakers?" Daniel could almost hear the wheels turning in that brain of hers.

"And this one is… um… a small statue of Elvis? This one is Mickey Mouse Ears?" Daniel laughed when she immediately set them on her head.

Betty impatiently tossed all of the boxes to the side and sat there frowning, staring at the three objects. Daniel almost saw the exact moment when it clicked.

"Daniel… where are we… going?" She said slowly.

"Well, that depends on you." He sat back to enjoy her reaction.

"These are for places, right? Oh. Oh my GOD, Daniel are you… is this… she snatched the Mickey ears off of her head. "Is this for California?"

"Well, close. Orlando. No self-respecting Disney fan goes to California."

There was a squeal as Betty bounced a little in her seat.

"Oh… well Elvis has to be… Las Vegas!"

"Mm hmmm…." Daniel was having a blast. Watching her reaction was entertainment all in itself.

"Grapes… grapes….." She picked it up and lightly ghosted her fingers over it. California? Napa maybe? Hmmm." She set it back down and picked up the cow, staring at it for several moments, before throwing back her head and laughing like a loon. "Chicago! Mrs. O'Leary's cow!" The sound of her laughter filled the small space.

"So… my choices are… Orlando… Las Vegas… Napa Valley… and Chicago."

"Well, close. The grapes are for wine, but not for Napa."

She paused for a second with her head tilted to the side, thinking. He could hear her mumbling under her breath. A few minutes later he took pity on Betty and gave her the final destination. "The grapes are for … Paris."

Daniel hadn't exactly seen many Disney films but one image had always stayed in his mind as one of the funniest ones in cartoon history. He had made a point to watch this one when he and Betty had started… well. In The Little Mermaid, when Sebastian's jaw drops open in shock, that scene had always struck him as hilarious for some reason. Betty's reaction made him think of that little guy. If her jaw had dropped any lower then she would need relocation surgery.

"Puh.. Puh…."

Daniel reached over and took her hand, kissing her fingers. He reached up and helped her shut her jaw.

Betty sat back against the cushions, weakly. "Somehow I don't think you're referring to Paris, Illinois."

"Nope."

"Holy Crap!"

Steve interrupted them again, hovering near Daniel's elbow until he acknowledged him. "Sir? And where will we be flying this fine evening?"

"Betty?"

"Ahh… um.."

"No problem, ma'am. Whenever you're ready. I'll just go and bring some refreshments."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. So no Paris then huh?"

"My French kind of sucks." Betty was still speaking in a dazed little voice, staring out the window.

It finally dawned on Daniel that something must be wrong. How could she have gone from completely and beyond excited to almost shell-shocked in the space of seconds?

"Betty?" He said gently.

She forced a smile and seemed to physically get a hold of herself. "Oh, I'm sorry Daniel. You just… shocked me a little. I had always imagined going to Paris on my honeymoon or something. Not just on a…. whim. I can't go to Paris!... It's… Paris! The most romantic… beautiful…. For crying out loud, you were going to take me to … _Paris!"_

Daniel was confused now. She sounded exasperated. Betty must have seen his expression, because she reached over and grabbed his hands. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil your surprise. This is just about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me….! But …I just don't think I'm quite ready for Paris, yet." She bent over and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

Oh. For a moment Daniel was afraid that his bottom lip was going to poke out in a pout.

"Um… so where else would you like to go?" Betty sounded tentative as she settled back into her seat.

"Anywhere you want to go. Obviously Paris is out. I …uh… sorry. I wasn't trying to push or anything. I just wanted to give you a … surprise."

"Oh you definitely did that." She grinned at him. Then she seemed to think about it. "I think…. Vegas!"

Daniel blinked again. He had been sure she was going to pick Orlando for some reason.

"And by the time we get there it will still be early, because of the time difference. I've never been that far west before. I bet it will be a lot of fun! Wow, I can't believe that you're taking me on a trip! For a date! This has got to be about the coolest thing ever!" She spun around in her seat in excitement, but Daniel couldn't help but feel that he had just missed something important. Everything seemed fine but…had he screwed up? Or not?

* * *

"Wow…"

"Hmm?" Daniel had been staring blindly out the window for the past hour or so while Betty chattered on the plane's phone to her sister, filling her in on where they were going. Betty had hung up a few minutes ago, and the two had been staring out the window in fairly companionable silence.

"Oh, it's just the lights. Everything's so pretty when you're up here. It's like another world or something. I feel like… well like all my problems are so far below me that they don't really matter."

Daniel made a noncommittal sound and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Maybe if he just kept his mouth shut, she would finally talk to him.

"It's just… nice. I don't have to worry about oh... anything. I am hungry though. Do you know when we'll be landing?"

"Yes, I think in about 45 minutes or so. I can have Steve bring you something to snack on."

"Nah. I think I can wait. I just get sick if I don't eat regularly."

"Why do you….? Oh. Oh… ah. Of course." _Duh, stupid she gets sick because she's pregnant_. Daniel punched the button to alert the flight attendant and tried not to say anything else that was completely asinine.

"I know… it's easy to forget, hmm?" Betty asked.

"Not really. I mean, not in the way you're thinking. I just heard sick and thought you were ill or something. Is it.. bad? I thought that was supposed to happen in the morning."

"I wish. No, it's like all day. I usually keep crackers on me, but they wouldn't fit in the little purse that Hilda packed. That's why I sort of freaked out a little about going to Paris. I would love to go there… sometime … but this would have been a little awkward with doctor appointments and restricted diets and all."

Her hand wandered over onto his leg and patted it comfortingly. "That was the best surprise, really. I just kind of handled it badly." She squeezed his thigh. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Daniel took her hand before it wandered any further. This was important and he didn't want to get distracted. "Betty- I…"

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused both Daniel and Betty to jump a little.

"I ah, brought some more Gouda, crackers, and fruit for you ma'am. And some champagne and water. I wasn't sure of your preferences. But if you'd like anything else I can go get it."

"This is fine, Steve. Thank you very much."

Daniel nodded, echoing Betty's words. Apparently the captain had filled him in on the plans for the evening. Steve smiled and disappeared again.

Betty reached for some of the cheese and nibbled on a small piece. She ignored the champagne for some Perrier and took a small sip.

"You were going to say something?"

Daniel coughed. "No, I don't think so," he said rather quickly.

"Hmm."

Betty went back to staring out of the window, and Daniel went back to staring at her out of the corner of his eye. He wracked his brain for something to say. He was a fairly decent conversationalist for Christ's sake. Why couldn't he ever make the words matter when he needed them to?

"I ah… I was just going to say that I don't want you to worry about.. um… anything. I know that I haven't exactly given you much reason to believe me yet, but I will take care of you and.. well. You know. I can't believe that I'm a father, you know?"

Betty snorted. "Gee. No other paternity suits?" Her voice came out harsh. She physically winced and reached over to squeeze his hand. "Oh damnit. I didn't mean that quite as mean as it came out."

"Are you sure? It's a reasonable question." Daniel was proud at how even his voice sounded. "And no - no paternity suits. Mom told both Alex and I about the wiles of women trying to catch themselves a Meade when we were about twelve. I've always been really careful. I think that's why Daniel Jr. was a surprise when I found out. But that night that we…. I guess I never apologized. I mean, I'm not sorry for what happened between us." He looked directly at Betty and saw her blink back some sort of emotion. "And I'm really not sorry that you are pregnant." His lips twisted into something approximating a smile. "I am, though, extremely sorry about what I've put you through. If I had to do it over…. Well."

Betty blinked hard. She blinked again and tilted her head back, grabbing for a napkin.

Daniel, who was familiar with the wrath of a Woman Who Needed To Fix Her Makeup, quickly distracted Betty from crying. "Why do gorillas have big nostrils?" It was stupid, but it was the first thing that popped into his head.

"Wha… what?"

"Because they have big fingers!"

It worked. The fragile look on Betty's face was quickly replaced by one that suggested that Daniel was one or two sandwiches short of a picnic. "Ah, I figured you'd be seriously irked with me if I made you ruin your makeup." Daniel said in explanation for his inane comment. He snatched the napkin out of her hand and quickly dabbed at the little tear that had gathered. "There. All set."

Daniel realized that he might have made a slight error in judgment by getting so close to her when he sort of forgot how to breathe for a few moments while looking down at Betty's up-turned face.

"Makeup?" The 'p' made a little puff of air against his lips. He was literally only one or two centimeters from touching her lips with his. He had to swallow hard before he could make himself move away.

He cleared his throat and sat back, clutching the napkin in a punishing grip, as though it had done something wrong. It took him a moment to realize what they had been talking about. He cleared his throat again. "Um. Yeah. So … maybe one day you'll forgive me for being an idiot. I can't promise not to be an idiot around you anymore, because well, you know me well enough by now to know that I… ah. Seem to behave poorly around you with alarming frequency."

Betty smiled at this. Daniel wasn't sure but it looked as though there was a slight bit of pink around her cheeks. "I think we need to…figure out how we want to do this." She indicated Daniel then herself with a funny little wrist movement.

"I guess I never thought that you would be interested in … this sort of thing."

Daniel sighed and went back to staring out the window. He couldn't blame her. He hadn't exactly been known for a stellar track record when it came to his relationships. But it surprised him how much it hurt to hear that she had such lack of faith in him. He noticed the absence of lights and looked off into the distance. "Hey. We're almost there." Daniel nodded towards the awesome site that was the skyline of Las Vegas over the blackness of the desert.

What Happens in Vegas…..

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

HERRE THERE BE SMUT! AND FLUFF! SMUFFY FLUT!... er I mean fluffy Smut? Also, a completely random appearance by Dominic Monaghan since he was on _Flash Forwar_ d while I was editing this. :D **Because Dominic. That's why.**

A/N. I'm not a doctor. Nor am I a relationship counselor. Most of the setting comes from my one trip to Vegas- so please don't think I'm advertising for any one particular place over another. This is fiction! Regarding the middle of the chapter, I dare you to look at Canon-Detty with them in a restaurant the same way again! Muh hahahah! Thanks and happy reading! **Historanic** and **survived_it_al** l were terrific per the usual! (Oh and thanks to **whimsicalmusing** for her advice on Betty and the rest of the subjects discussed! ;) )

 

* * *

 

Betty grinned to herself, bouncing a little in the rented limo as it cruised down the airport road. Part of her was very aware of Daniel's vast wealth, but since he didn't really try to flaunt it towards her anymore, it was fairly easy to forget about… until he went out of his way to remind her.

Like a private plane gassed and ready to go anywhere that she wanted.

Like taking the trouble to find all those objects that represented those different cities.

Like making reservations at the best restaurant in each of those cities…

Like this whole night.

It was surreal. These past few hours had been amazing..….and they had hardly done anything! Even just talking in the plane had been long overdue and Betty hadn't realized how very much she'd needed to hear Daniel apologize again. Hearing the words, watching his lips form each syllable, had really meant something. She had felt herself become less and less hurt by each sound. He had looked so earnest and sad over his erstwhile actions, how could she not forgive him?

And the touching! They couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Just little, seemingly innocent touches - a hand on a back here, a slight rasp of fingernails over an Armani-clad knee there. Enough of a touch that they had left her practically salivating. Daniel would occasionally look at her with one of those mind-blowingly sexy, intense looks that she had seen him give countless other women and Betty thought the top of her head might fall off. She loved each time he shifted in his seat or swallowed hard when she reciprocated touching him. They had pretty much glossed over this part of their courtship - if that was actually the right word for what they had. They had gone straight from one intense situation to another with none of the slow, teasing flirty stages that she had had with Walter, Henry and even Gio.

Boy, oh boy did they make up for that tonight. Betty shivered again as she felt the pad of Daniel's forefinger tracing slightly over the vein in her wrist. He was just watching her. Normally that might be creepy or something, but as Betty would turn and look out the window, pointing out some place that she had only seen in pictures, Daniel would politely look where she showed him, and then go back to his quiet, contemplative stare. Occasionally his lips would twitch in that cute little almost-grin he had before his features would smooth out to his more usual look.

"Have you thought about which hotel you want to stay at?"

His voice caused her to jump a little. It was the first time either of them had spoken in the twenty or so minutes that they had been in the limousine.

"Ahh, no. I haven't had a chance. I'm sure you know what places are good, I think I'll leave it to your judgment."

"If you want. But, if you see someplace that you like better, just let me know. It can be easily changed. I thought we would go to dinner first. I hope you're…hungry."

Betty tried very hard not to think naughty thoughts at the way he said 'hungry.' But jeeez, what was a girl to do? Betty had spent so many years very carefully not thinking of Daniel sexually, that her poor, taxed brain seemed to be making up for lost time.

"That would be fine." Betty was afraid her voice might have been a little squeaky when she replied, but if Daniel noticed then he was polite enough not to mention it.

The limo pulled up to a traffic light and Betty gasped at what she saw. To her right, there were fountains that had been exquisitely timed to shoot water along with the strains of music that floated to her through the closed limo's window. "Ohhh…" Betty sighed. "That is so beautiful."

"Yeah. It is." Betty noticed out of the corner of her eye that Daniel's gaze hadn't wavered from being so intensely focused on her face. She was glad the darkness hid her reddened cheeks so well; it was gauche to blush so horribly at a compliment, but she couldn't seem to help it. A small, hidden part of her still couldn't believe that the Daniel Meade was spending time with her out of his own free will. Giving her sincerely meant compliments was all just icing on the cake as far as she was concerned. The limo started to move again and Betty settled back in the seat. Her tummy gave a little burble, and she put her hand over it, mortified.

Daniel laughed and leaned forward, covering her hand with his. He pressed a little, then abruptly tightened his hand around hers.

"Aw, God this is driving me ..." He whispered, moving his hand to her waist and tugging her forward so that she fell into his lap. Betty felt his mouth on her collarbone, and felt the cooler air as the short gauzy sleeve from her dress slipped down over her forearm. His mouth followed the movement, licking and kissing with teasing little nibbles over the skin until he reached the very end of her shoulder, then started moving back over to her neck. Betty's body had simply frozen as he continued working his way over the small dip of her clavicle, and over the very top of her breasts.

"This is... okay, right?" His whisper made her jump a little, the sound of his voice jarring her out of the sensual stupor she had found herself in. His hands were warm as he slipped the other sleeve down her left shoulder. Betty raised her gaze up to his and nodded at his mischievous look. "Don't worry. I promise not to mess up your make-up." I don't give a damn about the stupid…

That made her laugh and she shifted a little on his lap, moving as much as the confines of the dress would allow her so that she was just sort of kneeling on top of him, straddling one leg. The skirt had a slit in it, but it was narrow enough over her hips and thighs that she really couldn't move properly. Betty bent down to kiss him, but was distracted by the feeling of his hands closing over her breasts, pushing down the top of the dress. Her head fell back and he began to kiss her neck again, moving lower and slowly covering every inch of skin that his hands weren't stroking over...

... and then the limo stopped. There was a soft chiming noise that shocked Daniel and Betty into swimming back into reality. Daniel cringed and then quickly rearranged her back into her gown, with the quick practiced movements of someone who had been interrupted before. "Oops. That's the driver's notification. I guess we're here." Betty had to blink a few times before she could slide off of his lap and back onto the seat.

"Where's here?" Okay, so maybe her voice was a little raspy. Her skin was still tingling from where he had touched it.

"The restaurant. I think the chauffeur will help you out. I .. ah... need a minute before I try to walk. Vegas is pretty laid back but if I go out there like this then I'll probably get arrested." Betty's gaze flicked down, then back up to his cheeky grin.

"I don't mind waiting." Her voice was quiet as she smoothed her hands over her legs nervously. Why she was nervous she couldn't have said. She didn't feel uncomfortable exactly, just ... slightly weird. Like a bright neon sign had just sprung up over head proclaiming, I ALMOST HAD SEX IN A LIMO! Daniel reached out for her hand again and sighed. "I... ah... well I can't wait until I can... muss your makeup." He winked at her, leaned over and gave her a quick, light kiss on the lips. "Okay. Let's go. I think I'm good."

Some spark of Daniel's playfulness caused Betty to react as he moved to exit the limo. Her fingers lightly brushed over his groin as he stood up and her grin turned positively evil at the way he sputtered and coughed her name. When he helped her slide off of the seat, Betty felt like beaming at the way one simple touch from her had completely turned the tables on Daniel. He was gawping at her as though he couldn't believe what she had just done.

Well, neither could she, actually.

The chauffeur's face was carefully blank as he shut the door. There was a doorman that held open the door to the hotel, and Betty and Daniel entered arm-in-arm, both trying very hard not to burst into laughter over the events of the past few minutes.

Betty was so proud of herself- really, shocking Daniel was just so much fun!- that she hadn't realized where exactly they were going until the elevator doors opened to..

...the most beautiful dining room she had ever seen. Daniel paused for a moment on the staircase so that Betty could get the full effect of the dining establishment. Everywhere was the slight glint of gold and silver, the walls were draped in fabric, and the hostess station was tastefully hidden away in a corner. Betty blinked for a moment. Wherever they were, she was fairly certain that they didn't have a dollar menu.

"Daniel Meade. I believe we have a reservation?"

The woman smiled as though Daniel's words had filled her with contentment. "Yes, Sir. Of course. If you and your guest will please follow me?"

Betty tried not to crane her neck at everything she saw as they walked down the stairs down into the dining room proper. Everything was so beautiful and tastefully decorated she felt as though she were in a television show or something. There were only a few tables, maybe only thirty-five or so, but they were spaced far enough apart that it gave the illusion of a fairly full restaurant. A violinist, cellist, and pianist were playing something classical on a slightly raised stage. The sound of diners eating was muted above the sound of the music.

"Daniel! Oh, my God I think that's Dominic Monaghan!" Betty hissed to him as they were shown to their table in a small corner. She waited until the hostess had left. She peeked around Daniel's shoulder at the smaller man sitting several feet from them doing something that should be illegal with his tongue to a wineglass. "Wow, what is this place? He's like my favorite hobbit! I can't believe that there are famous people here. Ooooh. Look, it's that pretty woman from Lost! The one that can't decide between Jack and that other hot guy..." She watched as the beautiful woman sat down across from him and they resumed their conversation.

Their waiter appeared out of nowhere with two menus and a small carafe of water. Their table was situated so that Betty didn't have a direct view to the other tables. They were sitting side-by-side, as opposed to across each other. The table had been turned slightly to take advantage of the corner, giving both her and Daniel the illusion of privacy since he only had a view of Betty and the wall, and Betty only had a view of Daniel and a small part of the room. There was a long, cream colored tablecloth on the table, and both places were set with silverware (that looked like real silver), crystal glasses and wineglasses turned upside down on the cloth, and a small candle that flickered merrily in the darkened corner. The waiter poured the water into the crystal glasses, then set a menu by Daniel and Betty.

"Good evening, sir. Ma'am. Our tasting menu has several seasonal delicacies, while the regular menu has several of the Chef's favorites for you as well. Please take your time. Would you like to order wine now or perhaps wait with your meal?"

"With the meal would be fine."

Daniel looked over the menu and smirked at Betty's raised eyebrow. "How does Butter Poached Maine Lobster with Sweet Corn Custard, Chanterelle Mushrooms and Coral Butter Tensley sound?"

"Um, I don't know what it exactly was that you just said, but wow. It sounds... great?" Betty smiled. "Can I see the menu? Or is the little woman not supposed to look?"

Daniel shook his head. The expression on his face was ... hurt ... for a moment before he forced a smile. "I, uh is it okay that we're here? I thought you might like to try a five-star restaurant. We can go somewhere else if you want." His eyes looked very blue for a moment as she gaped a little at him.

"No! Of course not, this is lovely. I just thought it was weird that they didn't hand me the menu."

Daniel's face relaxed. Had he really been that worried that she was unhappy with the restaurant? Betty glanced over the menu, not really concentrating on what she saw, just mostly looking so that she wouldn't have to stare at Daniel. The menu was leather, with a few items engraved (engraved!) onto the surface. There was something called a tasting menu on the left-side page. Words like 'truffles' and 'pommes Dauphine' popped out at her.

"Daniel!" Betty hissed again, making a sound like a squeaky whisper. "It says One-hundred and eighty- five dollars… a plate!" She saw the price ($295) if you included wines and thought she would have a heart attack.

Daniel's lips twitched in that way he had when she had done something amusing that he didn't want to outright laugh at. "It's a really well-reviewed restaurant." Was all he said, instead.

Betty took an even more careful look at the menu. "Okay, so what's the difference between a tasting menu and the regular menu?"

"The tasting menu is more of a …special fare. In-season items, chef's whims… that sort of thing."

"In my neighborhood they call that a la carte," She grumbled under her breath.

Daniel made a new and interesting sound - something between a cough, a sneeze, and a raspberry, and choked a little on his water.

Betty was afraid if she looked up at him and met his eyes she would burst into giggles. It was just suddenly so funny! This restaurant- so elegant, and pretentious, and… rich with this fancy menu and crystal on the table.

"The pickled veal tongue looks especially good tonight." Daniel had caught her mood immediately, and his mild observation sent her snickering into her napkin.

"Hush. Here comes the waiter. We're gonna get kicked out or something."

They had both composed themselves by the time the man had arrived. Daniel had ordered the Butter poached lobster, and Betty had gone with an appetizer of Crispy Calamari with Watercress, Preserved Lemon and Royal Trumpet Mushrooms (She remembered an episode of Iron Chef where Bobby Flay had made something with those mushrooms and they looked good), a main course of Crispy pork belly with Sweet English peas, compressed melons, (she wasn't sure what the hell a compress melon was, but it sounded painful) Serrano ham and pea shoots and a desert of hazelnut caramel with crunchy milk chocolate and Godiva ice cream. Betty was mostly looking forward to the desert.

Daniel ordered some wine for himself and Betty ordered a Sprite. She wasn't supposed to have caffeine, and alcohol was out, so Sprite it was.

"I wonder if they had to run downstairs to buy it from one of the vending machines." She said musingly.

"If so, then they'll charge about six bucks for it." The waiter had left bread that had rosemary and other herbs in it. There was olive oil and some shredded cheese to drizzle over the bread. Betty had had very happy things happen with her taste buds when Daniel had shown her how to assemble the concoction. "You know, Betty," Daniel said in between bites. "I have to admit, that between your face in the plane, and the limo, and eating here - this is just about the most fun I've had in ages. I don't know if it's because you keep surprising me or if it's just that we're finally alone with no distractions…"

As if on cue, the waiter interrupted with Betty's appetizer. He whisked away the cheese and bread, and replaced it with fresh ones so quickly that it looked as though he had done it with magic. Betty snagged a strip of calamari and popped it in her mouth.

"Ohhh. Mmmmm…."

She wasn't sure what they had done to what was basically fried clams, but it had such an amazing flavor that she couldn't help but moan over it. She opened her eyes to look over at Daniel and saw him staring at her almost slack-jawed with the same glazed look that he had in the limo before he pulled her into his lap. He watched her mouth as she licked a little bit of sauce from her fingertip. It wasn't a red sauce like one would expect, but something citrusy and strangely spicy. She saw his blue eyes darken in a way that made her own body remember the abrupt end to their limo ride.

_Hmm. INteresting._

Betty had never consciously tried to be sexy. She had seen women who seemed to just ooze this level of sophistication and elegance that seemed to have men lining up down the block, willing to do anything for a few moments of their time. Well, whatever. Daniel was practically breathing heavy because she had liked the calamari. Surely she could do this…. Maybe surprise him a little more… without completely botching it up, right? Without warning, she remembered Hilda telling her about a rather important business dinner she had gone to with Archie and hid the wicked little smile Hilda's story invoked behind her napkin, which she set on her lap.

She turned a little so that she was closer to him, careful that her hair wouldn't drag on the table, and offered him a strip of the calamari with just a slight bit of sauce with her fingers. That was probably breaking at least eight hundred of the little unknown rich people rules for dining out, but from the way that Daniel leaned into her fingers he didn't seem to care. He sucked a little on her first finger, then leaned back to chew.

"Tasty," was all he said. But his hand shook a little when he took a sip of his wine. Betty wanted to pump her fist and give herself a high-five. She brought both hands up to her mouth as she blotted it carefully with the napkin, then very casually put her hand a little above Daniel's knee under the cloth on the table, squeezing gently.

"Do you want some more? I think there's only a tiny bit of the actual clams left." Betty peered at her plate, completely ignoring the fact that her hand had migrated up Daniel's leg by another half an inch.

"No. I'm good." He took an even larger gulp of wine and sat there.

Betty used her right hand to get some of the mushrooms and watercress. It had some of the same flavor as the calamari's sauce but with no actual sauce to make the cress soggy. Daniel's gaze was on her mouth again as she finished the bite and swallowed. The waiter appeared as if by magic and whisked away her plate. Betty used the interruption as an excuse to move her hand another two inches or so up his leg. When she squeezed again, her fingers brushed against the heat of his cock. 

She could hear the clicking of Daniel's throat as he swallowed, hard.

"So… ah… was there anything else that you wanted to see in Vegas?" Daniel's voice sounded normal. He was seated so that no one could possibly tell what she was doing to him under the table, and that made him bold enough to shift closer so that most of her fingers were over him. He gave her a look that Betty interpreted as a dare, so she started to move her fingers ever so slightly, sort of petting over the heat and the hardness that she found there.

It was her turn to smirk at the way that his eyes sort of bugged out for a moment, then fluttered shut as she moved her fingers, pressing and rubbing through the cotton. "Hmm, well I've always wanted to gamble a little. The slot machines and all that sound like a lot of fun." Betty's voice was completely normal as she continued her ministrations under the table. A little flick of her wrist, squeeze of her fingers, pressure and rubbing…

They talked about everything and nothing, the conversation getting progressively more monosyllabic from Daniel as she got more bold, slowly undoing the button and zip with a sharp zzzzzz of sound. The waiter arrived with their meals and Daniel's eyes got a little panic-stricken as he met her impish gaze over their water glasses. Betty gave a particularly twisted turn of her hand and her knuckles hit the top of the table, causing all the water glasses to jump and jangle against each other briefly. Betty turned beet red and snatched her hand back to safer territory. Betty carefully studied the candle while the waiter put their food onto the table, refusing to meet Daniel's or the waiter's gaze, convinced that everyone in the restaurant now knew what she was doing. Daniel just nodded at the other man who quickly left them to their meals.

Betty snickered to herself as Daniel mangled the napkin clutched in his hand. She had both hands above the table and was cutting her food into tiny pieces. Just to mess with Daniel's head, she put her left hand down under the table again, resting it on her own lap, watching as he sat up straight in his seat in shocked anticipation.

"Betty….?" He whispered her name, unsure of what exactly to ask for or caution her against. She couldn't pick out one particular emotion on his face; instead she could discern nervousness, lust, eagerness, and something…else that she couldn't quite identify.

So, to try and be a little more devious, she completely ignored him and took a bite of her pork. She chewed precisely three times and then took a sip of her Sprite. "So, I had an interesting job offer yesterday." Betty knew Daniel was just waiting for her next touch, wondering… and probably not paying attention to what she was saying.

Daniel surprised her by clearing his throat and taking a rather large drink of his water. "What kind of job offer? From where?" He took a bite of his lobster then a bite of his vegetable. Betty waited until he had taken another sip of water before responding and touching him again. Daniel moaned this time, a little rasp of sound through his lips that part of Betty craved to hear. His eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed the water without incident, only to gasp when she reached inside his trousers to actually stroke his skin.

"It was an offer to work as a features editor from home. I would only have to go into the City for a few meetings and the like." Another spark of pure deviousness caused Betty to look at him and lick her lips a little, watching as he followed the movement of her tongue with his heated gaze.

He was hot and hard and she couldn't wait to get back in the limo. Minutes passed with Betty becoming braver and being more playful than anything else. Daniel's face was getting progressively redder and it was getting more difficult for him to keep quiet. His hand had fallen down between them and was clutching the chair hard enough that his knuckles were white. He was breathing heavy but trying to keep his breaths slow and measured and not sounding like he was receiving sexual favors under a table in a public place. Betty felt the slippery wetness at the tip, and looked at him straight in the eyes as he gripped the chair harder, fighting to sit still. She just moved the cloth napkin so it was over her hand and around him, and by squeezing the head and rubbing the vein underneath was able to watch him finish. There was another split-second of absolute shock that she was doing this, then nothing but bliss as he bit his lip to remain quiet.

Then his look changed, became even more direct, the color of his eyes becoming an even deeper blue, and she felt his hands around hers, tucking and zipping and helping her put everything to rights.

When he spoke, his voice was almost dark with intensity. "So… are we about done here?"

Betty chose not to question what happened with his napkin, but she spoke brightly. "Well, I haven't had a chance to enjoy this scrumptious meal." With that, she had to look away, back down at her plate, and started blithely eating her food again before she started to get the giggles.

There was a very long pause. Then Daniel excused himself and left the table. Betty looked up, once he had left, and out at the other diners, all at once horribly shocked and equally pleased with herself at what she had just done. People were eating, laughing and enjoying each other's company over various highly elite meals, completely oblivious to hand-job central over in her corner. Betty snickered. For all she knew, the same thing could be happening under each table… Betty's gaze was caught by one diner who seemed to be staring straight at her. She looked to the left and the right, then blinked to be able to focus so far away, cursing her farsightedness and the contacts that were from two years ago.

Dominic Monaghan was staring at her, smirking. Betty's mouth fell open. The actor held up his fist with one thumbs up, winked, and left his table, still grinning cheekily.

Betty spent the few minutes that Daniel was gone turning several interesting shades of red.

* * *

_I can't believe that….._

_HOLY mother of…._

_How did she….._

_WHEN did she…._

Daniel was alone in the restroom - _thank god!_ \- resting his overheated forehead against the coolness of the mirror. He threw the napkin away… then threw several paper towels on it so no one would see it. All of a sudden he felt like he was sneaking one off at his parent's house or something and the urge to "hide" the evidence was absolute. He thought it rather amusing that he had to talk himself into meeting his own gaze in the mirror. As he washed his hands, the goofiest, most ecstatic, all-is-right-in-my-world grin seemed to have taken over his mouth with enough force that his jaw ached from smiling. How… his Betty could… his mind kept skipping from shocked thought to shocked thought. He felt the urge to whistle. The feeling of possessiveness that accompanied all of this was probably the most shocking thought of all; it sobered him up immediately. The certainty that Betty would never have done this before to anyone else and that obviously what had gone on - because he would hate to have to hunt the poor bastard down and kill him - made Daniel feel a strange mix of elation and selfishness that he wasn't too sure he wanted to examine too closely. At least not at the present moment.

He glanced down at himself, only now realizing that he could have walked through the restaurant with all his goodies showing to the universe and probably not noticed, so it was good to see that he had managed to put everything to rights without having to devote too much time or energy to thinking about his actions. As he looked, he saw that there was nothing more amiss than his dress shirt being slightly crooked from his belt buckle. He dried his hands on the provided towel and then fixed his clothes.

He walked back down to the restaurant and sat at his table. Betty was staring at her hands, still bright pink.

"Oh, now you're blushing?" The words left his mouth before he could hold them back. He saw her flinch in reaction and look back down at the rest of her mushrooms, unwilling to meet his gaze.

"Hey." The waiter came back and Daniel rolled his eyes at the interruption. The waiter, who must have been telepathic - _only not too telepathic or I would be arrested right now haha-_ left as soon as he had brought their deserts and cleared the other plates. Betty was staring down at her chocolate morosely.

Daniel could have slapped himself across the head. _What an idiot. You know how little self-esteem she has…_ He leaned to his right, so he could whisper into her ear.

"That was the most amazingly erotic thing I think I have ever done. You are … incredible. And, you're damn lucky that I'm not throwing you over this table right now." She looked over at him at that. "I have never." His voice deepened a little "Ever." His voice dropped even more to a raspy whisper. "Been so turned on in my life." He reached down for her spoon and fed her a little bite of the ice cream, smiling inwardly at her reaction from the caramel over the milk chocolate. Then he kissed her, like he had been dying to kiss her all night- his mouth hard over hers, tongues and lips and wet, humid contact. He could taste chocolate and Betty and God, was this night ever going to end?

He made himself pull away and continue eating his own custard as though nothing had happened. Betty kept peeping up at him through her bangs in a way that he remembered her doing when she was anxious about something, and the thoughts of what he would soon be doing to her… _with_ her made it extremely difficult to concentrate on conversation.

Fortunately, Betty wasn't interested in talking either. Daniel signaled for the check as soon as the last bite was done, hardly looking at the paper as he signed his name. The waiter's pleased look made him glance down and realize that he had just given the man a hundred-dollar tip. Betty's hand was shaking very slightly as she placed it on his arm, and he escorted her up the steps to the elevator. There were three other couples in the elevator as they descended and their chatter made him realize that he had forgotten one extremely important detail for the night's festivities.

Shit! How was he going to make the arrangements and still keep things a surprise for Betty?

The doors pinged open and Daniel escorted her through the lobby. He had been completely oblivious their first time through, but desperation caused him to think quickly on his feet, looking about for an answer to his problem. "Is there anything that you need?" He said, nodding towards the hotel shop near the elevators. "You know, I had Justin pack for you, but I don't know what sort of overnight things he packed. Here. Spend a few minutes and let me know when you're ready. I just have to make a couple of phone calls."

Betty looked confused for a minute, then seemed to think of something and smiled up at him, kissing him softly on the cheek. "Thanks. Good thinking," she said and disappeared into the store.

Daniel whipped out his cell and called information for the Bellagio. It didn't take very long to book a room that he thought Betty might enjoy. He then called the limo driver and asked that he deliver their belongings to the hotel, knowing that everything would be unpacked and waiting for them by the time that they arrived. He had just gotten off the phone when Betty left the store, holding a small bag.

"All set?"

"Yes." She gave him a shy smile and they turned to walk out of the doors.

"Betty- do you mind if we walk? It's not too far."

"Oh… sure. That would be fine. It is a beautiful night."

Daniel snorted. "I could give two craps about the night. We could be walking in a hurricane for all I care. But if I'm alone with you in a car right now, I won't be able to keep my hands off of you."

Betty blinked and looked up at him.

"And trust me. What I want to do to you …. with you… will take a lot longer than just a car ride to a hotel." Daniel caught her arm as she stumbled a little in her heels. Daniel whistled as they left the hotel and exited out into the cool night.

They started to walk, chatting about ridiculous things, tactically agreeing to not touch on any of their more serious subjects. Enough was enough for tonight. "I suddenly feel like we should be eating pizza and singing karaoke," Daniel said, breaking the silence they had fallen into as they walked down the block.

Betty blinked, looking surprised.

"What, you're surprised that I remembered?" Daniel pulled her tightly against him with his hand around her waist.

"Maybe. We never really talked about it or anything… it was just one of those sort of cool, crazy things. Although I have to admit, I've never looked at Sonny and Cher the same way again." She grinned and leaned into his chest. Daniel looked both ways and crossed the street, so that Betty would have the best view. He knew the cycle repeated every ten minutes or so, and by asking questions to keep her distracted and walking so that his body was between her smaller frame and the casino was able to keep it a surprise until they stopped.

"Why are we…?"

"Just wait." And as expected, the music and lights came on. They were standing in the dead center and could see the entire show. Betty's little gasp of surprise was lost in the music, but the sweet way that she grabbed his hand in excitement was not. He watched her face as she watched the lights and spectacle of it all, lost in the reflection of blue, and shades of pink that highlighted her rapt features.

All at once he loved her so much he thought his heart was actually going to stutter in his chest. He had agonized over whether or not to actually tell her. Part of him was worried that she would roll her eyes (in an extremely kind way of course) and tell him to go get stuffed. And he could certainly see why; he hadn't exactly been Prince Charming over the last few months. Part of him was completely terrified of opening himself up to Betty. When he let himself, he did remember the whole Sofia debacle with absolute clarity. His gullibility still hurt sometimes. Daniel didn't think that Betty would ever do something as malicious as that, but … but. It was hard for him to open up.

He had waited too long. The show was over and Betty was looking up to him with a laughing, happy mouth, as excited as a child by the Bellagio's show. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, sweetly, lips cold from the night air and Daniel cursed himself for missing what could have been the perfect moment.

He stroked his hands down her arms and pulled her a little towards the hotel's entrance.

"We're staying here? Really? Cool!" Betty looked around at the opulence of the hotel's lobby as they walked to the reservation desk. Daniel took the keys, declined to have an employee show him up to his suite, and walked to the elevator.

He cringed at his obvious eagerness to get upstairs and made himself pause by the ramp way that led to the casino proper. "Erm. We could go play at the slots or something, maybe catch a show if you wanted."

He almost laughed out loud with relief at the look Betty gave him. Her implied look of _Are you crazy?_ made him want to hug her. Their lips met again and they whirled as one to stand by the elevators. It seemed to take forever for the damn thing to arrive and Daniel only managed to avoid looking at his watch by kissing Betty; little pecks on her neck, or cheek, or shoulder- all places he couldn't wait to take his time with tasting.

 _Hurryhurryhurry…_.. up to their floor and stumbling out of the elevator past the completely stoic elevator operator, barely able to wait until the doors slid shut before he was kissing her again, tongue meeting hers, stroking, flicking at the inside of her mouth, nipping at her lip and listening to her quick breath of anticipation. They were on one of the higher floors, and neither noticed the amazing view of the strip as they careened into little tables, other people's doors, knocking Daniel's head against a wall scone once hard enough that he thought his head rang, so intent on each other that they barely noticed. He got the door open - _finally!_ And even more importantly got it shut before Betty was up against it, and his hands were on her waist, raising her up so that he could grind himself into her softness. They both cried out from the feel of him, and Daniel pressed even closer to help hold her up as his hands were yanking up the dress, concentrating his mouth on her collarbone, licking and kissing her skin until her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth fell open a little as she panted for breath.

Then finally Daniel was crushing the dress up and out of his way with one hand, fingers ghosting over and under the lace of her panties before two of his fingers were inside her as far as he could go. She gave a little moaning scream as she tightened around him moving her legs up and wrapping them around his waist for balance. Daniel's mouth wandered over and down over her breasts, tugging on one nipple then the other with his lips, keeping them pebbled hard and wet while he thrust his fingers, moving them in a little circle, frantic for the feel of the fluttering muscles and slick wetness from her body. He could feel her hands scrambling to get the jacket off of him, but it wouldn't budge. Finally he felt her yank on his shirt, sending buttons pinging all over the place so Betty could touch him, clutch him with her nails, clinging to the solidness of his shoulders for balance. He twisted his fingers up and flicked against the tiny nubbin of flesh so he could see her shudder and rock against him.

She was making these sexy little moans in the back of her throat, as quickly as she could draw breath, and he couldn't fucking stand not being inside of her; it had to happen quickly, now, possibly sooner before he felt that clever little hand of hers reaching inside of his trousers, impatient with the belt, fisting him again and _ohgod_ if she touched him too much this would all be over way too quickly….

Daniel thrust against her body, removing his fingers and trapping her hand against him and herself. He unbuckled his belt, batted her hands out of the way. He held her waist with one hand and himself with the other, sliding her own wetness against his cock… Betty's hands holding his face, forcing him to look at her as he slid slowly, god too slowly but he didn't want to hurt her from this position— _ngggh- h_ er eyes wide and soft at the same time as his hand moved to the other side of her waist to hold her, position her better before he moved experimentally, sliding out and thrusting back forcefully enough - _yeahyeah like there like that-_ that the door rattled a little with the combined weight of their bodies against it. Betty's mouth was open, saying-almost sobbing- his name over and over as he moved, finally, - _Jeeezus-_ finally able to feel her close around him, almost sucking him into her, in and out and inoutinout, fast and fierce, and her nails on his shoulders, digging in as she started to come, sharp bursts of pain sensation… the sudden tightness of her body sending him over the edge, freezing, burying himself as deep as possible, head tucked into her neck, breathing their sweat and heat.

Daniel came back to himself slowly, as his heartbeat slowed down. He moved carefully, felt Betty slide her legs down from his waist to the floor to support her body. She stood there in front of him, still breathing hard, looking at him with a little grin on her face.

One of his buttons was caught in her cleavage. She looked down and plucked it from between her dress and skin and handed it to him. "I believe this is yours."

"Ahh… yeah. Yes."

Betty stretched, seemingly uncaring that he had completely just ruined her dress. She turned around and moved her hair so that Daniel could unzip the back. She stepped out of the crumpled thing and kicked it to the side. Daniel could only see her in the shadow from the Vegas night as she moved, equally turned on by the garters, stockings and glimmer of wetness on the top of her thighs. He licked his lips unconsciously, and followed her into the bathroom, stripping as he went.

He came up behind her, hugging in the mirror with his forearm across her front, and kissing her shoulder from the back. She blinked at them in the mirror and looked down at the picture they made, smiling to herself. Daniel didn't have words to describe the euphoria he felt at that present moment in time. She moved to turn on the shower and he moved with her, stepping in and sliding the door shut. It was nice, with two different kinds of shampoo and conditioner, as well as a small bottle of "his and her" body wash set on a shelf in the tub.

Betty _eeeeped_ when the water came out colder than what she had anticipated, and bumped into Daniel's body when she jumped back. He held her again as the steam from the shower filled the small space.

"Betty?" She turned around and started soaping his body.

"Hmm?"

"I love you." And all at once it was so easy and natural and he tried not to cringe at the way she froze. She looked up at him with her hair completely flattened by the shower's spray, mascara smudged under her eyes so that they seemed to stand out even more in her shock.

There was one heartbeat of silence. Then two. Just when Daniel was thinking that he had made a mistake of monumental proportions, pushed too far, presumed too much… her hands came up the sides of his torso, crossing themselves over his back so that she could hug him, hard, pressing herself up and to him so that their heights were closer and then somehow they were kissing again, lost in the steam and the night and each other…

… it was only when Daniel was drifting off to sleep, several hours later with Betty curled exhausted into his side, that he realized she didn't say the words back.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Be aware- this chapter is so full of fluffiness and sweetness you might get sugar shock. :)**

In that fuzzy moment between becoming fully awake and being blissfully unaware of her surroundings, Betty was not sure what woke her up. She tried to roll over onto her back and was surprised, as always, by the heavy bulge of her stomach and the child inside her, causing a strange sense of vertigo and making it difficult to move as she tried to get comfortable. She sighed a little into her pillow and couldn't help the grin as she felt the heat of Daniel's hand on her hip, softly stroking to soothe her back to sleep. Betty reached down and back, linking her fingers with his briefly- stroking her fingertips over the flesh she found there - before moving her hand back to its usual resting spot on her stomach. Her nails scuttled over the single gold band on his left ring finger and she made a contented sound into her pillow, slipping softly back into her restless sleep.

***

* * *

Waking up in the sinfully comfortable bed in the Bellagio with Daniel curled around her had been almost surreal. Betty's body had ached in places that she wasn't sure were legal in all fifty states, but she had awoken with such vitality and almost glee that she couldn't contain herself. Everything she had secretly dreamed about, everything she had not so secretly dreamed about, seemed to have finally come true. Daniel had given her a perfect, storybook-like evening. And he told her... he loved her. He. Him. _Daniel Meade_ loved her. The dumpy, somewhat goofy, glorified secretary from Queens. It was a fairy tale. It was her fairy tale. Betty couldn't help it anymore. She had flipped over in bed, surprising Daniel into wakefulness when she jumped onto him, kissing his sputters of indignation and surprise.

"Wha'? Bet... _mmm_?"

"'Course. Who'd you expect?" She flipped her hair over her shoulder and kissed him again, ignoring his protestations of morning mouth. The kiss turned hotter, more intense within seconds. Betty shivered a little as his hands came up over her legs, stroking up to her waist, tilting a little so that they were lined up with only the sheet separating their skin. Her absolute giddiness resurfaced as she pulled away from his mouth, watching as his eyes had darkened as she pressed her pelvis down onto him. "So, I want room service. I'm starving. Pancakes. I love pancakes. I love Las Vegas. I love you. We should get married. Possibly by Elvis."

Betty had managed to shut her mouth long enough to look down and really focus on Daniel's absolutely gape-jawed stare. She had winced a little as her brain caught up with her mouth. His blue eyes held a slight sheen of moisture and Betty had stared down at him, transfixed as he blinked hard... twice. Daniel's hands had ghosted up to her face, cupping her chin in his hands, and pulling her back down so that he could kiss her. Soft lips, gentle hands, a whisper of wetness.

They were married three hours later.

***

* * *

Betty shifted again in bed, trying to get comfortable. The baby decided that her bladder would be an excellent punching bag, and she couldn't help the little wince as she quickly heaved herself up in bed, swinging her legs over the side of the mattress onto the floor. She heard Daniel make sleepy snuffling noises behind her and curl around her pillow. His lips were parted and the moonlight from the window caught the soft sheen of drool on his chin as he made another one of those chuffing snuffling sounds. There were shadows under his eyes that attested to how little sleep he'd had lately. Betty looked down at Daniel as he slept, all at once so in love with him that she felt dizzy.

* * *

***

Betty had just about blushed herself into insensibility when Daniel insisted that they eat naked.

"I just think this is _highly_ unsanitary." Betty said, sounding eerily like her sixth grade English teacher. Daniel had just laughed at her, leaned over and fed her some strawberries. They had eaten for a while in companionable silence, feeding each other little bites of food. Daniel had ordered the aforementioned pancakes, eggs Benedict, and a variety of fruits. They had had coffee and orange juice, had taken their time and not worried too much about much of anything.

Daniel had cleared his throat and peeked up at her through lowered lashes. The look was so out of place that Betty had almost choked on a piece of strawberry trying not to laugh. "Um, so were you... serious? About the, um… you know... the Elvis thing?"

Betty had been expecting this and calmly swallowed her food. "Well, I never joke about Elvis." She had taken a quick sip of juice to cover her grin.

"Right. Ah… of course. But… um, about the rest? We could you know. Get married, I mean."

Betty had reached over, touching his hand, almost bowled over by the look in his blue gaze. She dropped her teasing tone at once. "Daniel. You have to know that I'm... that I... how _much_ I love you."

He beamed at her words. Betty smiled back and said them again. She wasn't sure what to do when he fell down onto the carpet by her feet, resting his head on her lap, tilting his gaze to look up at her. "I love you so much… I can't believe that I'm actually here; that this is really real. I feel like I'm going to wake up and be... somewhere else." He looked away and Betty realized that he was talking about that dark place he had been when Daniel thought she and Matt had been together.

She reached out to touch his face, knocking the almost unfinished cup of orange juice over onto the floor. Daniel snorted and sort of collapsed against her leg, laughing. Betty just rolled her eyes, up-righted the juice glass, and dabbed at the tablecloth with one of the cloth napkins.

Neither of them had particularly wanted to get married in casual clothes so, after cleaning up and leaving the room, they had gone shopping.

Daniel had made sure that the whole day had been kept spontaneous. When they wanted to pop in and see a show- they did. When Betty mentioned off the top of her head that she admired a pair of sandals the woman seated next to them had, Daniel found the manufacturer and they went to buy a pair. They had walked for hours, just meandering around, taking in the sites and enjoying being with each other. They returned to the hotel in time for Betty to take a quick nap. While she was sleeping, Daniel had made all the arrangements for their wedding. Elvis, or at least a version of him, was indeed available to officiate over their wedding vows, and Daniel couldn't help but snicker to himself imagining Betty's face. He had arranged for the service to be professionally videotaped, and arranged for a celebratory dinner on his private plane on their way back to New York.

Betty had awoken from her nap with a sweet kiss that had quickly turned more passionate than either of them had time for. Betty had just laughed at the faces Daniel made when they stopped, tapping the face of his watch and reminding her that they had places to be.

* * *

The baby kicked once again, reminding Betty that she was a woman with a mission. She took care of her business, washed her hands and waddled back to bed, rubbing the small of her back as hard as she could to relieve some of the pressure. She felt like an elephant stuffed into the body of a mouse. Betty lay back down on her side of the bed, curling her legs under the duvet and sort of pushing Daniel out of her space with her rear end. He muttered something under his breath, still asleep, and pulled her so that she could rest with her head pillowed onto his shoulder. Betty was lulled back into a doze by the sound of his heartbeat, thinking of all the things he had done in the past eight months to make everything special.

* * *

Betty was ecstatic at the exquisite cheesiness of the wedding chapel. Elvis was splendid in all his satin and polyester. He looked like a youngish Elvis, not the unhealthy Vegas-Elvis. He had greeted them in a vestibule, bending over and kissing Betty's hand in a very gentlemanly fashion. Betty had smelled the hair pomade peppermint gum scent of him and her lips had twitched. A secretary had spoken quietly to Daniel while Betty had been gaping around the small room.

It was classic Vegas Tacky. Paper wedding bells had vied for space with plastic and plaster cherubs, hearts, and a giant, red, glitter-covered pair of lips making a kissy face. There were hundreds of Elvis statues, UFOs and aliens. Elvis and an extremely chesty Alien dressed in tuxedo and bridal veil respectively looked down over a cherubic baby Jesus flashing what looked to be a peace sign. Betty bit her lip, thinking the décor looked more like a cross between the backstage prop room of the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_ and _Alien vs. Predator_ on Valentine's Day. It was bizarrely horrible, but she couldn't seem to stop looking around at all the kitsch.

It was _awesome._

Somehow being here with Daniel, doing this ridiculous thing - just for them - was absolutely perfect. They had discussed earlier about having a real reception for their family and friends. Neither one of them had wanted to hurt anyone, but by equal measure, neither wanted to give up this small bit of selfishness. Betty was jarred out of her thoughts by a rustle of satin and the glinting of rings.

"Are you ready, Ma'am?" Elvis smiled charmingly at her, moving his hand down to take her elbow, guiding her into the actual chapel. She felt Daniel's gaze on her as the door opened and had to bite her lip again to keep from bursting into giggles at the look on his face. He looked amazing in jeans. Betty often felt that there should be a national honoring of Daniel Meade's Ass in Jeans Day, but the way he wore them was fantastic. He was wearing a t-shirt and a suit jacket with it. Daniel had said that if they were bucking against the traditional wedding the society pages had planned for him since he was a zygote, he might as well be comfortable while doing it. Betty didn't care what he wore. She had decided to go more traditional, and had bought a lovely white dress. It was long and layered and had a vaguely hippy feel to it, but she loved how the silk and lace swirled when she walked. It was just one of those dresses that made you feel feminine without trying.

Elvis walked down the aisle, turned and stood by Daniel at the front of the room. He nodded, and _Can't Help Falling In Love_ started to play through the room's speakers. Betty vaguely realized that the secretary had handed her a bouquet of flowers and had given her a small shove in the back to get her to walk… and it hit her. She was walking down the aisle, about to get married, to an Elvis song. She bit her lip even harder, meeting Daniel's eyes. He looked like he was chewing on the inside of his mouth to keep his own laughter inside. He looked so happy and handsome and just thrilled with life that Betty felt her heart give a girly little wiggle. Betty thought her heart would stop when he mouthed the lyrics "I… can't… help…. Falling in love with… you...", staring at her so intensely that she was rather surprised that certain bits didn't burst directly into flame.

She watched his eyes as she walked closer to him and made it up the aisle without incident. Daniel took her hand and kissed her once, very softly on the lips. The music stopped and Elvis smiled benignly at them. The vows were sweet and straightforward, and to be honest, Betty couldn't remember every single word she repeated. Daniel's eyes were her whole world, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine as he pledged to spend the rest of his life together with her.

When Elvis told them that Daniel could kiss the bride and his lips met hers again Betty really thought time had stopped. The trembling of his lips, the soft slide of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, the absolute certainty that she completely adored and trusted this man in front of her brought tears to her eyes. She felt him smile against her mouth and she realized that a very jaunty Viva Las Vegas was playing in celebration of their union.

It truly had been perfect.

* * *

Maybe a shower would work. Betty sighed, hard, blowing air out through her lips so that she could hear the frustrated _thhhbbbbbbttt_ sound as her lips moved against each other. Usually she just dropped off like a light had been switched off; this insomnia was highly annoying. Betty got out of bed again and made her way down the hall towards the guest bathroom. She didn't want to wake Daniel any more than she had done already. On her way, her gaze was caught as it always seemed to by the closed door to the right. She smiled softly to herself and reached out to touch the door with the flat of her hand, memories flooding back at the feel of the cold wood surface on the palm of her hand.

* * *

Two months after their wedding, Betty and Daniel sat in the doctor's office eagerly awaiting the nurse to call Betty's name. Daniel sat beside her, body language extremely closed off, tapping his foot and impatiently thumping his fingers on the arms of the plastic chair. Betty looked around the chic décor and all at once wished very strongly for her own doctor. She didn't say anything though.

It had been their first real fight.

Daniel had, in purely Meade fashion, taken over most of her life. Or so Betty felt. When they had gotten back to New York, Betty found her stuff packed and moved into a new townhouse on the Upper East side of Manhattan. It was just about as far from her first little apartment and the crowded, cozy house in Queens as it could be. Daniel had hired a decorator, and the woman had made the rooms of the place look as welcoming as a conference room. Some of Betty's wall hangings from her mother and other things she had collected over the years had ended up in storage rather than cluttering up the MODE-worthy décor of her new home.

Betty had chosen not to say anything, not betraying how hurt she was by Daniel's high-handedness, knowing him well enough to understand that he was just being Daniel and trying to do something nice.

Daniel had also taken over her medical life. True, she hadn't had much of one other than to confirm that she was indeed pregnant when she first found out from the Emergency Room, but Daniel had cancelled her appointment with Dr. Rodriguez- the doctor who had delivered her- and had her an appointment for her 20 weeks ultrasound with just a phone call.

But Betty still hadn't said anything.

Things came to a head when Daniel had rehired the same woman to decorate the nursery. Betty had walked into the house late after meeting Justin and Hilda for lunch, and saw Daniel and That Woman measuring the wall and talking about how "Black and White were the new pastels" and …

… had gone ballistic. Betty's hands had clenched at her sides and she'd pretty much pushed the woman out of the house single-handedly, ignoring her startled squawks and Daniel's sputtered questions. Betty had slammed the door and locked it before turning around and opening her mouth to start screaming at her husband.

Daniel had stood there, gaping like a fish, as she continued her tirade. It had been horrible. She had been crying and red-faced and yelling and Daniel had just stood there with his mouth open, staring at her.

When she got to the part about feeling like a guest in her own home, he had stepped forward and yanked her into his arms, squeezing her tightly as if he could make her stop hurting just from the strength of his arms alone.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" He had whispered, his own voice rough with barely suppressed emotion. "I didn't mean to! I just thought that….."

And that had made her angrier.

"I know!" She had yelled. "You didn't mean to… you never mean to… but you do it anyway! You can't just take over everything."

Betty had spun around on her heel and left the townhouse, slamming the door behind her so hard that the windows had rattled.

When she had returned, much abashed and horrified at what she had said, she found Daniel tearing down what had been put up in the nursery and bedroom by the decorator. There was a large box of the fancy, cold, objects d'art that had graced the shelves and surfaces of her home in the center of the living room.

Daniel had turned when she slunk inside the room, shamefaced. Betty had stood there stupidly, unsure of what to say to him, how to begin to apologize properly, but he was speaking before she could put her words together.

"I love you. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt…" Betty had been shocked at how pale Daniel's face was, and at the redness of his eyes. It had made her own eyes fill with tears. But when she had started forward, she had stumbled and Daniel had moved to catch her in his arms. Betty had looked up at him with tears on her face and then it didn't matter because he was kissing them away and they were both whispering how sorry they were and how much they loved each other and everything was okay again.

Daniel had spent the next week and a half with her, ordering new furniture. They had scoured little sidewalk shops and vintage stores looking for nifty things to fill up the recently empty space. They had invited Claire and Hilda along to go shopping for baby items and nursery furniture. Betty had almost fainted at the final amount after the three hours of mad shopping. Betty didn't even know what sex the baby was and she owned mountains of blue, pink, green and yellow baby clothes. Not to mention the crib, changing table, armoire, rocking chair, table, blankets, stuffed animals, toys, rattles….The shop girl, who must have worked on a commission, was over the moon, and they had had to hire a truck to ship everything to their home.

They had painted the nursery walls a very pale yellow color and Betty had howled to see Daniel Meade covered with paint and cursing levels and wallpaper glue as he tried to hang the classic Winnie-the-Pooh border around the room's walls. He had gotten it up eventually - Betty pretended not to notice the small air bubble near the light switch - and after they had given the hardwood floors a good waxing and put the rug down, it looked very bright and cheerful. Betty had helped with the decals and had spent a satisfying few hours with Claire folding and putting all the baby items away. Now all it needed was the baby.

* * *

Betty was jarred out of her memory by the nurse calling her name. Daniel sprung up like a jack-in-the-box, yanking Betty up by the arm. "Here! We're here!" Daniel said, grinning foolishly. Betty had decided not to push the fact that she wasn't with her doctor. Especially once she found out that Dr. Rodriguez would have been in Greece while Betty was having her baby. In the grand scheme of things it hadn't seemed to matter.

The nurse had smiled benignly at Daniel's exuberance and helped Betty into a small waiting room. After asking if Daniel wanted to stay for the examination, the young nurse told Betty to disrobe and put on the paper robe- making sure to leave her underwear on.

Daniel had found this hilarious.

"Yeah… Betty. Make sure you leave those on. Give the old Doc a thrill. Those are the silky ones I found for you for Valentine's Day, right?" Betty had almost sprained something rolling her eyes, but stripped and hopped up onto the table, trying not to crinkle the sanitary paper too much.

Daniel had quit his snickering once she lay back on the table. The gown kept her top half covered, but had a large slit in the bottom of the front so that the doctor could get to her stomach easily. Betty was only a little over three months, but it seemed like within the last week her tummy had pooched out just a little. It wasn't too large or ostentatious, but just enough that Betty could notice, especially since her jeans weren't buttoning anymore. Daniel had been almost giddy when her breasts had gotten bigger, seeming to have the attitude that all the gods of the universe had conspired to give him something new and particularly fun to play with, but with her tummy he was sweet- stroking it, putting his ear to it, and whispering to it when they were in bed together.

When the doctor came in and introduced himself to both of them, Daniel had remained uncharacteristically bashful. Betty had answered his questions as the doctor had moved around to the front of the examination table, telling Betty to scootch forward and put her feet up in the stirrups.

It was about this time that Daniel elected to step outside while she was examined, looking particularly alarmed at the speculum and other instruments lying on the steel tray near the Doctor's hands. The doctor had met her gaze and grinned without saying anything, and all at once Betty felt completely certain that this was the doctor for her. The nurse had slipped back in with a professional smile on her face, but her eyes had been almost dancing with laughter.

Daniel had come back in for the ultrasound, carefully not meeting anyone else's gaze.

When they had first seen the little black and white blob that was their child, it had been one of the most amazing moments of her life. Daniel had been shocked into silence, not taking his eyes off of the screen for an instant as the doctor pointed out the fetus' heartbeat, spine and internal organs. When the doctor had asked whether or not they wanted to know the baby's sex, Daniel had nodded hard, still unable to look away, although he clutched at Betty's hands as though anchoring himself.

"A girl. See?" The doctor had pointed to something on the screen that looked like a very small, slightly more blurry blob. "Those are your daughter's legs."

Daniel had taken an extremely shaky, awed breath and Betty had fallen in love with him all over again.

* * *

Betty turned off the shower and removed her shower cap. Daniel always teased her about wearing it, but since he had never had to try to sleep on long, thick hair that made the pillow wet as it dried, she thought she could handle his granny jokes for a little while longer. She felt the baby give a particularly disgruntled kick and gasped, folding over a little and pressing the spot where her daughter had made it known that she didn't appreciate the cramped space. Betty hummed a little under her breath as she dried off. Her back cried out in pain as she rubbed her shoulders with the terrycloth and she stopped humming abruptly. Betty hung the towel up to dry and put some lotion on her stomach and legs. Naked, she looked into the mirror at her ungainly body, seeing the pale skin and the stretch marks, and not caring in the slightest. She only had a few weeks to go. The idea that she could be a mother both terrified and awed her. When she looked in the mirror though and saw emphatically how much her body had changed it had the strange effect of calming her. She remembered nights full of Daniel touching her stomach, kissing the baby when she kicked, and was not insecure at all.

She made her way back to the master bedroom, and back into bed. Daniel was still sprawled, completely oblivious to the world. In the past few months, he had gone back to Meade Publications as a consultant and worked on some of the less well-known publications he owned just to keep his hand in. When he was home, he and Betty had explored the East Coast while Betty wrote features on her travels. They had stuck to mostly day trips in the past months of course.

She bent to catch hold of her side of the covers and felt the baby kick her again in protest. Betty lay staring at the ceiling, watching the lights from the city reflect against the tiles. They were hypnotic almost, rolling around like galaxies in a night sky. She lost track of time, listening to Daniel's slow breathing besides her. His measured breaths lulled her exhausted body into a sort of light doze.

The pain, when it came, shocked her so much that for a moment Betty thought she was having a nightmare. It was like something had reached down into the muscles of her stomach and squeezed as hard as it could. For a moment, she couldn't even cry out as the air completely left her body. "Dan—." She gasped as another pain shot through her. It rippled, feeling as though it was tightening around her lower stomach, the small of her back, and up under her ribs. She felt a sudden gush of wetness, and for one humiliating moment, thought she had wet the bed. The pain went away and she was able to think.

Still, she waited for a slow count to fifty before moving, telling herself that it was silly to panic. She felt a tiny cramp in her back again and couldn't keep quiet.

"Daniel!" Her voice was croaky from shock as she reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"Betty…?" He came awake slowly and turned over to blink sleepily at her. He yawned hard and Betty heard his jaw pop. "Whassup? What happened? Did you spill some water or someth-?"

She felt another pain as it started to roll from her lower stomach around the rest of her body. She was helpless, looking up at Daniel as he looked down at her, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening.

"I- I think… it's time to g…o to the … hospital." She gasped as she rode the agonizing waves of pain.

All at once Daniel was wide awake.

Daniel came awake all at once as he looked down at Betty's face so pale in the dark room. He jumped out of bed, pulling on her arm. "BABY?" Daniel was unaware of how much his voice screeched in the relative quiet of the room. He tugged on Betty's arm again, not understanding why she wasn't moving more quickly.

"Ouch… just… give me a second." He saw her frown and that made him confused. Frowning meant she was unhappy. Unhappy Betty meant unhappy Daniel. That wasn't right. Babies were … awesome! He wasn't unhappy at all. "BABY!" He said again, trying to communicate to her his urgency.

He saw her roll her eyes as she sat up, sliding her feet off of the bed and on to the floor. Daniel's eyes widened when he saw how wet her nightgown was. His brows came together when he saw that it was faintly pink. Betty followed his gaze and he saw something flicker in the depths of her eyes. "Daniel," she said very gently. "I need you to do something for me. Can you go downstairs and get my phone? I left it on the table in the foyer."

Daniel tugged on her arm again. "Hospital!" He said, helpfully.

Betty closed her eyes. It looked as though she were counting. Repeatedly.

"Daniel… I need you to go get the phone, please. It's for the baby."

"Baby?"

"Yes. She needs you to go and get the phone." Betty's voice faltered for a moment as she sucked in a sharp breath.

Daniel beamed at her and dashed downstairs, uncaring that their neighbors were probably getting an eyeful as he scooped up Betty's phone and ran back upstairs. Betty had taken off the wet nightgown and was struggling into another one.

"Hospital?" Daniel asked. For some reason it seemed very important that they get there quickly.

Betty fairly snatched the phone out of his hands and started muttering to herself. "Hilda's too far. I'll call Claire. Maybe she can help with him. I can call the rest from the taxi. Oh. Shit. The taxi. Daniel? I need you to go see if you can flag down a cab. You should be able to. We're not that far from…" She trailed off again as Daniel turned to run downstairs once more. "Wait! Put some pants on…!"

That was a damn brilliant idea. He was a little chilled. He put on a pair of jeans, hopping agilely from one foot to the other to get them on. He was able to stop a cab simply by stepping out into the center of the street. There was a burning screeeeeech of tires and a man poked his head out of the window.

"Hey! What the hell? You want to get your fool-ass killed?"

"Baby!" Daniel replied. "Betty!"

The cabbie looked baffled. His eyes travelled from Daniel's naked chest to an extremely pregnant Betty who had grabbed a small case along with her purse and was walking slowly down the stairs to the sidewalk.

"Oh. Right. Mister, get your girl in here. What hospital? It's extra if she has the kid in the back. That always takes forever to clean up."

Daniel heard Betty say something to the cabbie. It seemed to make sense to him, because he nodded and started to drive off.

"Yeah. I need your help. Daniel's gone cra... ah.. a little stressed out I think. Can you meet us there? Yeah, San Sebastian's. Right. Right. No… a cab. I don't know why I didn't think of the driver… I'm just used to it…oh…."

Daniel winced as Betty's hand reached down and clutched his. Boy, she sure had a strong grip. The pain seemed to cause something in his head to change; like two ends of a string coming together to form a solid knot. It was like a sharp slap in the face. He reached over and plucked the phone out of Betty's grip.

"Mom? Yeah. She's fine." He winced as at least three separate bones rubbed together. "Ah, maybe not fine… but we're on our way to the hospital now. Yeah. Okay. Love you too."

He held the phone with two fingers and stroked Betty's cheek with the back of his thumb. He could feel the panic shoved deep down; a fluttering beast ready to pounce at any moment. He was afraid to acknowledge it and that shamed him. Betty seemed fearless as each contraction wracked her body. She hadn't fallen apart.

In Daniel's mind's eye he could see the pink tinge on her nightgown from where her water had broken. Is that normal? Surely that's normal. Right? Betty opened her eyes, panting a little, sweat making her face shiny in the muted lights from outside of the cab. She had bitten her lip so hard that it looked swollen, just on the cusp of bleeding. Daniel bent down and kissed it with the very slightest brush of his lips. They stared at each other in the semi-darkness. For a moment, Daniel thought that everything in the world had stopped as her eyes filled his vision. His throat tightened with emotion. He cupped her face with his other hand and kissed his wife (His wife! And oh god how much he loved knowing that she was his… that he was hers.) again, pulling away reluctantly as he thought of something important he had to do.

Daniel looked at Betty's phone, grinning a little that she had programmed the number right behind his own cell number. It rang twice before going to an answering service. "Dr. Sutterson's office. How may I help you?"

"Daniel Meade. My wife, Betty Meade, is having contractions. Her water broke. We're on the way to San Sebastian's."

"Yes sir. I'll inform the doctor. You can be reached at this number?"

"Yes."

Daniel wasn't sure how he responded, or if he even did, because Betty was seized by another contraction.

Dimly he heard the cabbie's mutter from the front: "Jesus Christ I'm going to be buried in a friggin' umbilical cord if I don't hurry the hell up."

Daniel was oblivious to the odd looks he was getting as he walked besides Betty, escorting her carefully in through the hospital's emergency entrance. He was shirtless and barefoot and probably had the worst case of bedhead in recent human history. Claire couldn't help but smirk a little to herself as she watched his solicitousness. She removed her scarf and gloves, putting them absently in her purse as she strode from the waiting room up to her son and daughter-in-law. She briskly took charge and within a very short time (an extremely short time when she nodded to her photograph featured prominently on the wall under 'Our Exceptional and Most Gracious Thanks To:' ) Betty was ensconced in a private room with Daniel wearing a scrubs shirt and booties, fluttering around his wife like a displaced butterfly. Her phone rang with Ignacio's ringtone and she excused herself to go and try to do some damage control before a flurry of Suarezes descended on the couple. They needed a few minutes to themselves.

 _"What do you mean I can't have an epidural?_ " Betty had found the breath to screech at the nurse. Daniel winced and held his finger to his left ear. Betty was too flustered to notice. The nurse kept looking over at a little machine that kept spitting out a sort of graph looking thing. The closest that Betty could relate it to was a polygraph that printed from movies she'd seen. Two blue electrodes were hooked onto her stomach, one high and one low. The electrodes were hooked up to the machine and there were scratching sounds as it reported whatever the electrodes picked up. The nurse made a face that looked rather as though she had just bit into a lemon and tore off the sheet. Then she smiled falsely and left without saying anything.

Betty felt her heart give a little stutter in her chest.

"Is something wrong? Why didn't she say anything? Why won't they let me have an epidural? We practiced with the epidural!" Panic caused the words to tumble out over one another in their urgency to get out of her mouth. Betty looked at Daniel worriedly. Daniel's face was carefully blank as he leaned forward and cupped her face in his large, strong hands. "You need to relax. Calm. Down." Betty was all at once frustrated with him, feeling another contraction rocking up from the center of her body. She had to actually bite her tongue so that she didn't snap at him unfairly. She was tired. It hurt like crazy. The nurses said that the contractions were very close together.

Really? Like she needed to be told this? Really.

The doctor had been informed and was on the way. Daniel's hands slipped down to her shoulders, bracing her while she was helpless in the throes of pain. His head fell against hers so that they touched foreheads while he tried not to do anything that would annoy her too much. He was almost sick watching her go through labor, and had noticed the worried looks of the nurses as well. But he was unwilling to communicate his fear to Betty in any way, shape or form.

"But God, this could really be over just about any time." Daniel had said that to his mother in a hushed whisper outside of the room while Ignacio, Justin and Hilda had been in the hospital room with Betty and had received a snort of his trouble. Claire had just looked at him with one eyebrow raised, the smirk on her face making him wiggle a little in shame for the actual stupidity of his comment. Upon reflection he was glad he hadn't said that in Betty's hearing. He liked his balls where they were, thanks.

A cry from the room sent him rushing back in there. Hilda was stroking Betty's leg comfortingly. Justin and Ignacio looked faintly ill. Hilda smiled a little at Daniel's obvious worry (or perhaps the SpongeBob Squarepants scrub shirt the nurse had given him) and moved over. "This helps, gives her something else to concentrate on. Is she being mean to you?"

"No! Of course—"

"HELLO. I am right here."

Hilda just rolled her eyes at her younger sister.

Before Daniel could speak, they were interrupted by the doctor's deep, cultured voice. He came into Betty's room, looking at the various monitors, eyes flicking over the faces of her concerned family.

"Hi Betty. Looks like you're in a lot of pain. I'm sorry for that but we can't give you anything at this point." The doctor's face looked even more solemn for a moment and Daniel had a sudden sense of foreboding for what he was about to say.

"I'm afraid there is a problem with your baby's heartbeat."

Daniel thought for sure that his heart would just stop. His blood rushed to his ears and in the dead silence of the room he could hear everyone's sharp inhalations at the doctor's bluntness. Dimly, as though from a long way away, he felt Betty clutch his hand. The doctor's lips were moving but what he was saying wasn't registering. It was one of those moments that had both crystallized into super focused clarity and seemed to drag on forever.

His heart felt as though he had been punched.

"-right away. So I'll give you a moment to wish her luck and then we'll be ready to take her in. Five minutes."

What? They were taking Betty somewhere?

The doctor left and Daniel's panicked gaze ricocheted off of Betty's closed eyes and met his mother's own worried gaze. She seemed to understand and repeated the doctor's words.

"It's a cesarean. Don't worry; they're just as common as giving birth the old-fashioned way." Her voice was gentle, the voice that when he was little, sent a thousand monsters fleeing back into his closet where they belonged.

Ignacio was holding Betty's face in his hands and kissing her forehead. Justin looked miserable but was obviously trying to put on a brave face. Hilda was holding Betty's hand and reassuring her - all things that he should be doing. But he seemed unable to move, as though the punch in his heart had paralyzed his body.

This was the thing that he had thought about in his most secret of thoughts. Not this, per se of course, but something that would take Betty or their child away from him. Part of him still felt, even after all this time, that his happiness was fleeting and that he didn't deserve the amazing things that he had found with Betty. The panic- the mere idea that either of those things could be coming true just took everything out of him. He sat there in shock while Betty clutched his hand and her family closed in around her. He felt like an outsider. He felt guilty that this was his fault. Oh god… _he_ had done this to her.

In what seemed to be mere seconds, the nurses were back to wheel Betty's bed into an operating room. The hospital had been set up so that each room was its own delivery room, but having so many people in the small space had made them decide to take her to a more sterile environment.

Her family filed out of the room and Daniel stood up on legs that for a moment refused to support him. He couldn't talk past the giant blockage in his throat.

In a daze he followed the gurney, lagging just a step behind as it went down the hall and into a larger room. Daniel was stopped at the door and for a moment he panicked, watching his wife being sent through the double doors without him. The nurse, a tall black man with a very kind face, must have been used to slightly unstable fathers-to-be and stopped Daniel from just simply walking through him by putting a hand on Daniel's chest.

"Just a moment Mr. Meade; we need to get you in sterile clothes. It will only take a moment and you can be with her in a second." He showed Daniel how to properly wash his hands, and gave him a little gown and mask to put on.

Walking into the room was surreal. Every single movie he had ever seen where the woman lay in a similar position was playing in his mind like the film had been set on a continuous loop. Betty looked relieved to see him. Her eyes were wet and at the sight, Daniel could feel his own panic ebb away. He didn't matter. Only Betty and making her feel as comfortable as possible mattered. He couldn't control anything that was about to happen, but he could do everything in his power to make her feel better.

She was laying on the gurney, with a large blue sheet pulled up to separate everything from about her breasts down. They had kindly brought him a small stool to sit on and he did so, gratefully, stroking Betty's cheek and kissing her on the nose.

"Hey." He couldn't control the emotion in his voice.

"Hey."

"Mrs. Meade, you're just going to feel something very cold on your stomach. That's just the numbing agent and some iodine. Don't be alarmed."

She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Ma'am, just relax. Dr. Sutterson is an old hat at this. Take a few deep breaths, and we'll have your daughter out and squalling in no time."

Betty nodded, still with her eyes squeezed shut. Daniel reached out and grabbed both of her hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing her fingers softly. "So, did you decide on a name yet?"

Betty shook her head.

"Aha. So I can go with Alexis Jr?"

It was an old joke and brought a small flicker of a grin to her lips. "No… I don't know about that." She opened her eyes and met Daniel's gaze. Both brown and blue eyes held depths of worry and barely controlled panic, but they were talking and that was better than freaking out.

"Okay, Ma'am… this might feel a little odd…" The doctor's voice seemed to be obscenely chipper.

He saw Betty jump a little and wrinkle up her nose.

"Did it hurt?"

"No, I think that was just the iodine. I'd like to name her after both of our mothers. I know I said that I wanted her to be her own person, but now… I just feel …"

There were some mutterings from behind the sheet but Daniel ignored them.

"I think that's a great idea."

Betty sucked in a shocked breath just then and Daniel became aware of the sound of a surgical instrument clanking against the tray. There was a slapping sound and …

... his daughter's indignant cry filled the room.

"Ohhhh. Oh Ohmygod."

Betty' s whisper was like a prayer as they stared at each other. One of the staff in the room came over with the baby and set her on Betty's chest. Betty wasn't propped up, so Daniel helped to steady her as they watched her face pucker up and let out a furious yell at her parent's goofy smiles of pure adoration. Her fists were balled up and she was kicking out at the world. Betty was laughing and crying and whispering over and over how happy she was and how much she loved him and ….

….It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

* * *

Betty woke up in stages.

Someone was standing near her bed but she was too exhausted to actually open her eyes and see who it was. Her throat was raw, as though she hadn't swallowed in a while. As though concentrating on her throat made the rest of her body wake up, she became aware that her stomach really hurt. There was a murmur of sound and Betty felt sleep wash over her in a wave.

The next time she woke up, it was to a deep, slightly off-key baritone humming a lullaby. She took stock; whatever they had given her, it gave her a strange lethargic feeling. Her throat was fine, her stomach still not happy with her, but much, much better than she remembered; her eyes were gummy, teeth disgusting and her left toe itched like a bastard.

The song ended and Betty opened her eyes to see Daniel holding a pink bundle and whispering softly down to her.

Her heart melted at the sight.

"You're really the luckiest little girl in the world to have a mother like yours. She is… she has a way of changing everything for the absolute better. She's fearless, your mom. That infection she had? _Psssht_. She whipped it into shape, but she's just a little tired. She's so strong. She keeps my head on when it wants to fly off into thousands of little pieces, and if those pieces get out of hand, she helps me put them back together again. You're lucky. She is going to focus all of that on you. She had to teach me what to do you know. I didn't think that I would ever find someone so… so…." there was an embarrassed cough, "I did spend a lot of time searching. Erm. Probably too much. Then a lot of time being a moron, ignoring what was under my nose. Wasted time. Wasted chances. But your mom? She made everything seem real again. I told you how beautiful she is, right? Oh yeah, by the way don't expect to date before you're about forty-three. Trust me on this. Men are scum. Where was I? Oh. Yeah. Pretty soon she's gonna wake up, you know? And we can go to our house and …" His voice cracked. "God. I love you so much. Love her so much. My own little…family."

Betty's eyes drifted shut again before she could say anything to let him know she was awake. She was dimly aware of the tears on her cheeks and the bright ball of absolute contented happiness wrapped around her heart.

 

* * *

**THE END**

 

 

* * *

 

A/N. Well… wow. That sound you hear is me patting myself on the back. A very lovely person called this story (which started out as a one-shot hahaha) as a labor of love, and indeed no truer words have been spoken. Err.. Typed. I can't apologize enough for dragging it out so much but it just kept going… and going… and well. Real life was rather a sucky bitch – I didn't have a computer for about 4 months in there and would go to the library and type fiendishly for an hour before they kicked me out- and a few other things just kept happening. It was difficult to find time to write, and I am extremely sorry for those few readers that I lost because I wasn't someone that could update every week. (Although, I did start out that way!) Anyway enough about that. Thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the reviews and the Pm's and the emails here and on my lj. I could have been having the crappiest day ever and reading one of them always cheered me up! In some cases, it was the kick in the ass I needed to reorganize and start writing.

A few more thank yous… Over the course of the past two years, I've met two extremely wonderful people, **Survived_it_all** and **Historianic**. You can tell which chapters are beta'd because they are the literate ones. These two ladies helped me when I was stuck, inspired me when I needed it, and told me to shut the frak up when I was whining. Which I frequently do. :D I love them to pieces and owe them a huge hug for putting up with me.

Finally, the last bit- I'm not a doctor. I just sort of put my own experiences into play there. I guess I didn't explain it fully (because I was afraid my explanation would involve another three chapters lol) but the baby's heartbeat was slow because of the umbilical cord pressing on the baby. In my case, I was extremely lucky and my son was born without the cesarean, but I know it happens. I don't exactly know _how_ it happens though, so I took a few liberties with what I imagined. Any fans of David Eddings might notice Daniel's reaction to Betty having the baby was somewhat familiar. 

And finally, HEY **Chica De Los Ojos Café!** ! I did it! She won a prize for guessing that Betty was pregnant waaaaaaay back. I told her she could pick any scene she wanted and I would write it as a reward. She picked Daniel being autocratic and trying to take over everything. I don't think I got it quite how she requested, but I tried to fit it in! I hope you like it.

 

 


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